Fairest
by Heist
Summary: A spell cast. A favor sealed in blood. Beware the bargains you make with the Labyrinth. A dark retelling of a classic fairytale. Resurrected and reposted.
1. Prologue

**Fairest**  
A Fanfiction by Heist

*

**Prologue**

Once upon a time, in a world far away from the one we know, there was a King and a Queen. They were benevolent rulers of a prosperous human kingdom called Istrien that lay not far from the terrible Goblin Kingdom, Ennevar, and the mysterious Labyrinth within. Despite the fearsome reputation of their neighbor, there was peace between the kingdoms, and a lasting friendship between the two royal families. The fathers of the two kings had been great comrades, promising that their descendants would also be friends.

Through an odd coincidence, the two old kings had died around the same time, leaving their heirs to step up to the thrones. The same had been done over and over again in a long history in the human kingdom, but the successor to the Goblin Throne had been the first new king in a thousand years, due to the long-lived nature of his kind. Though young and impetuous, at least relative to his race, the Goblin King strove to be a good ruler and to retain the friendship of his neighbors. And so, for a time, there was felicity and contentment between the kingdoms. This was not to last long.

It was not uncommon for the Goblin King to sit on his throne a few decades before taking a wife, but the same could not be said for his younger, mortal friend. Willim, for that was the king's name, had brought with him to the throne a beautiful young queen named Linnaea, a woman of mysterious descent from the eastern land of Horandil. The early years of their marriage were filled with joy and light, but as time passed, they began to yearn for a child.

More time passed, and Linnaea grew despondent, for she seemingly could not conceive. Finally, when she could take no more the thought of childlessness, she turned to the Goblin King for help. A certain less than appetizing part of ruling the Goblin Throne was to take unwanted children that are wished away, and Linnaea begged the young fey king for a child. Even he could not offer assistance, as he was bound by the laws of his land to turn the children to goblins if they couldn't be won back.

All might have been lost if Linnaea had not remembered the folklore of her people, and the great faerie stories told of the mighty Labyrinth. Every story always mentioned again and again the consequences of bargaining with the Labyrinth, but Linnaea's desperation pushed her onward. One dark wintry night, the young queen stole away to the borders of Ennevar and begged the Labyrinth to give her aid in her quest.

"_You dare much, mortal woman,"_ the Labyrinth silently intoned. _"Know you the price of my succor?"_

"I know and I do not care," she answered boldly into the frosty air. "My life means nothing if I have no one to share it with."

"_And what of your King?"_ the Labyrinth asked.

"He must have an heir," she insisted. "A child would keep him from loneliness after I'm gone. He must have a child to follow him to the throne." For a few moments, the only sound was her harsh breathing in the cold as the Labyrinth considered.

"_I will grant your request,"_ the Labyrinth finally answered. _"But first I will require three drops of your blood."_ A part of a dormant rose bush writhed in her direction. Linnaea willingly took hold of the briar and barely flinched as a thorn pierced her skin. Three drops of perfect crimson fell to the pristine snow, and she felt the Labyrinth begin with its magic.

Linnaea was all too trusting of the Labyrinth. She did not consider the structure might have its own motives. She did not think of the possible repercussions. In her desire for a babe she forgot that the Labyrinth never did anything without the interest of itself or its keeper in mind. It did not cross her mind that the Labyrinth might have greater stakes in this than she. All concern was swept from her mind as the Labyrinth moved around her.

"_A child, perfect in form you will bear. A daughter with hair black as ebony, skin white as snow and lips red as blood. A beautiful babe engendered of my power, with a destiny woven in the fabric of my own."_

"Yes," Linnaea breathed, ecstatic.

"_You will teach this child of magic, the power that gave her life. She will know of me and mine. You will not let her grow without _belief_. You will have thirteen years. Tell no one of this pact and I will hold your trust."_

"I swear." A sudden force clenched in her belly, and she tasted powerful magic in the frozen air.

"_Our bargain is complete. Now go,"_ the Labyrinth commanded. Linnaea fled back across the border to Istrien, mindful of the secret, and when her joy became public knowledge three months later, only her contented smile surrendered any hint of what she knew.

Years passed. The Labyrinth's prophesying was proven true, and the babe born of Willim and Linnaea did prove exceedingly beautiful, even as a young child. Her hair was incomparably dark, her skin a milky pale and her lips, even at such a tender age, were blood-crimson. They bestowed to her the name Sarah, a common name among Linnaea's people, and watched her grow ever more beautiful as time passed.

Sarah's most startling features, however, were her eyes, an impossibly inhuman shade of silvered green, reflective of her supernatural heritage. Her piercing gaze was disconcerting to look on for any large amount of time, but her parents ignored the extraordinary look of the fey to her and raised her as an ordinary human child. From the time she was born, Sarah was groomed to be royalty, learning statecraft by day and intricate faerie tales, courtesy of her mother, at night.

So passed Sarah's first thirteen years, secure in the love of her parents and the knowledge of the amazing powers of magic. A few months after Sarah's thirteenth birthday, though, Linnaea passed into the next world, victim to a sudden, violent illness. Thankfully, no others were taken by the Labyrinth's dark bargain, but Sarah's world was shattered nonetheless. Even worse was when Willim, in a fit of caprice, took a second queen, not even six months after the burial of the first.

Katrinne was beautiful, more so than Linnaea, and she initially proved to be a good influence on the grieving king, pulling him from the depths of despair through sheer suggestion. Shortly after Sarah's fourteenth birthday, the proclamation that Katrinne was expecting a child gave new life to the king and a new hope to the kingdom. Katrinne's good will ended there, however.

In the first state visit after Willim's second marriage, Katrinne turned the Goblin King away, claiming him the most evil of black sorcerers. The Goblin King's warnings to Willim accomplished nothing, so smitten blind was he by his new wife, and the previously open doors of goodwill between Ennevar and Istrien abruptly slammed shut. Katrinne's further powers of manipulation came out in the virtual exile of Princess Sarah. The girl herself first was relegated to the position of lady-in-waiting, then after the birth of the prince, Tobias, to the station of servant and nursemaid to the infant.

Willim turned a blind eye to his eldest's pleas, and it wasn't long before Katrinne had wiped clean all devotion to his daughter. All that remained of the first queen was systematically eradicated from the castle, and rumors were passed around the kingdom that the princess was feebleminded, too infirm to follow her father. Sarah's degradation was complete by the time she reached her fifteenth birthday, her will and sense of self-value all but destroyed.

It was around that time that rumors began to reach Istrien about new horrors in the Labyrinth. The Goblin King was touted as a dark, twisted and cruel being, a true monster, and without the balancing influence of his former friend, it became so. The wonderful Labyrinth of Linnaea's stories became a profane place in Sarah's adolescent mind. She still clung to a few of her precious precepts of the fantastical, and retreated to an idealized world in which she wasn't a scullery maid, her mother had never died and she enjoyed the presence of suitors enchanted with her. Even when forced to take on the most unappealing work imaginable, Sarah's imagination ran at full tilt, and it was this endless cycle of invention that first got her into trouble.

*


	2. Into the Labyrinth

**Fairest**  
A Fanfiction by Heist

*

**Into the Labyrinth**

Sarah's remarkable journey began on a dark and stormy night, as all improbable and fantastical stories are wont to do. Her father and stepmother were attending a gala held in a neighboring kingdom, and Sarah, as usual, had been forced into caring for the young prince Tobias. She resented every second she had to spend in the presence of her half-brother, a visible reminder of her tenuous position. At any moment, Sarah's usefulness could be questioned and her meager subsistence in the castle could be entirely revoked.

There was no doubt in Sarah's mind that her stepmother abhorred her presence and would do entirely away with her if given the opportunity. The only thing preventing Katrinne from achieving that goal was Sarah's father, the King, if only still in name. Queen Katrinne all but ruled the country, allowing the subjects to see the thin veneer of her husband's "authority."

Sarah knew not how Katrinne had come to control everything, but she suspected dark forces at work. She was responsible for the nursery and the upkeep of the royal bedchambers, and she felt the unclean energies that radiated from the seemingly plain mirror that hung over Katrinne's vanity. More often than not, the mirror was covered by a heavy velvet drapery, and that odd fact stuck out in Sarah's mind. Katrinne was a rather vain woman, and Sarah knew from the many mirrors that filled the castle that the queen adored her own reflection. That she would cover a mirror seemed out of character for the excessively proud woman.

Sarah huffed at the thought and glanced at the nearest mirror. She looked a mess, in her worn servant garb and stained apron, especially with a screaming infant in her arms. She leaned closer and winced at the dark circles under her eyes, the weary expression written across her young face. She was still beautiful, but that thought annoyed her more than anything. As the virtual slave she was, beauty did her absolutely no good. Who would notice, or care that one of the castle maids held a rare face? Nobody, Sarah reflected.

She turned away from the mirror in further irritation and swayed, trying anything to calm the irate baby. More often than not, she could quiet little Toby, but tonight he refused to be placated. She had tried rocking him, singing, telling a story… nothing appeased the little prince. She herself also felt the need to wail out her frustrations, but she knew it would accomplish nothing.

"I don't know what you want!" she cried out in aggravation. He only cried harder, but Sarah miserably continued to rock him. He had been this way more frequently than usual, and Sarah couldn't for the life of her ascertain why. Neither could the court physicians. They were as much at a loss as she. They had ruled out all illness and confirmed that the babe did not have colic, as the queen had suggested. The presence of his mother never mollified Toby anymore, and so the infant had been removed entirely into Sarah's care.

She finally put the wailing infant into his cradle and collapsed into a nearby chair. Sarah closed her eyes and massaged her temples, trying to stave off the impending headache. No relief came, as she'd expected, and a few frustrated tears streamed down her cheeks. She was just so tired of all of this, and she'd have liked nothing more than to have a chivalrous knight in shining armor come to take her away from all of this on a shining white steed, but at this point she'd accept a battered soldier on a rangy nag as long as he was kind to her.

An image came unbidden to her of the goblins in the nearby kingdom from her mother's stories. She knew almost all the stories by heart, courtesy of her wonderful mother. A memory not even three years old floated into her mind. _Her mother, the irrepressible Linnaea, telling her in calm serious tones about the wrathful Jareth, the Goblin King himself._

"_You've never met him, nor should you have occasion to. He rules the great Labyrinth, which you should never forget, with a powerful hand, and he almost never smiles. But when he does, watch out!" A mischievous grin crept onto the queen's face._

"_Why is that?"_

"_When he smiles, he's about to send his wild goblins chasing after you!" And Linnaea had attacked Sarah with her long fingers, tickling her daughter until she shrieked with delight. And then the saddest smile passed over her face, as if she were looking upon some unattainable thing with utter longing…_

Sarah sighed absently, missing her mother and hating the screaming child so close to her. Unknown to her, distant beings heard that sigh, and the stray unintended thought that passed carelessly though her lips. "I wish…"

*

The Labyrinth was chatty today, Jareth mused silently in the room of shrieking goblins. It was abnormally cheerful, especially for the furtive structure. At the moment, it was prattling on and on about a present it was going to give him, and how somebody important would be coming to visit soon. While it was certainly odd of the Labyrinth to say such things, Jareth only gave half his attention to the sentient maze. At the moment, his mind was occupied with other things.

Not long ago, he'd become aware of a disturbance of the magical energies around his kingdom, particularly from the direction of Willim's kingdom. He rolled his odd colored eyes at the thought of that land and its new Bitch Queen. Apparently, taking control of Istrien was not enough, and she'd felt the need to dabble in the darker disciplines of magic. Jareth grudgingly admitted that for a woman that was mostly human, she'd done an impressive job in not destroying everything by accident in her early attempts. He could still sense the oncoming magical blight though, and he vaguely hoped his former friend would have the good sense to get out of the way before any of the trouble arrived.

He felt an indistinct pity for Willim's two children in the back of his mind, but he quelled the thought before it could fully bloom in his thoughts. He had only seen the eldest once, and she had been not even two years of age when he'd visited Istrien. Her name slipped his mind, but he'd heard the rumor she was little better than an idiot, and he almost wondered where Katrinne had thought to sequester her away. Jareth was similarly aware of the new prince and heir apparent, Tobias. He did feel for any child that would have to suffer under that tyrant of a mother, but it was of no real concern to him. Unless the child was somehow wished away to him, he could do nothing to interfere.

The Labyrinth suddenly cut off his thoughts. _"Are you listening, Jareth? Pay attention! This is important. It will be any moment now."_

"What are you talking about?" he asked aloud, ignoring the few quizzical looks from a few of his less stupid goblins.

"_It's the present I told you about. Listen and you will see. Shhh…"_

Jareth couldn't say he followed, but he felt the Labyrinth's mood change from cheery to tense with anticipation. A few goblins paused in their petty arguing to watch the Goblin King as his expression switched from ennui to one of puzzlement. The rest of them froze when the Labyrinth loudly commanded, _"SILENCE."_

And then they heard it. _"I wish the goblins would come and take you away, right now."_ The voice was tinged with exhaustion, and entirely lacked conviction, but it was the correct turn of phrase.

The Goblin King grinned, a predator's smirk gracing his face. "Well now, this should make for an interesting evening's entertainment." He snapped his gloved fingers, and he and several of his goblins disappeared from the disheveled throne room.

*

"I wish the goblins would come and take you away, right now." Sarah clapped a hand over her mouth in horror immediately after she uttered the words, instantly cognizant of her mistake. She darted up from her chair as a popping sound filled the room, and the baby fell silent. She dashed to the cradle, to see a hideous goblin stare up at her, the prince conspicuously missing. "Oh God, _no_," she whispered.

"I'm afraid God isn't listening, and just for the record, yes," a voice said behind her. Sarah whirled around to meet the appraising gaze of the Goblin King himself. Her eyes widened in fear, but her mouth refused to comply with her terror.

"What have you done with the Prince?" she demanded, her voice far stronger than she felt at the moment. The Goblin King raised a sardonic eyebrow, and Sarah bit her unruly tongue.

"Well, aren't you bold for a servant, now?" he asked, more amused than anything. Sarah relaxed imperceptibly, slightly relieved that this king seemed uninterested in killing her for impertinence. "Wishing away the Prince and heir to the realm in a fit of anger. I certainly wouldn't want to be you right now." And now he was mocking her.

"You can't have him!" she retorted. "He's royalty, and as an ally of Istrien you have to give him back."

"I'm obligated to do no such thing, and I have not held this land among my allies for a few years now," he replied icily. Sarah froze, suddenly aware she was arguing with the Goblin King, one of the most powerful beings in the world. If he wanted, he could kill her on the spot and leave her ashes to dirty the floor.

"I'm sorry," she said weakly. "I didn't mean it."

"What's said is said, and you'll have to pay the price now." He turned away and strode to the window, his dark cloak sweeping dramatically behind him.

"Wait!" Sarah cried. He paused, not looking back at her. "They'll kill me if I don't get him back."

"Not my problem," he answered caustically.

"Legend says you have to let me try. I wished him away, so I should get to run your Labyrinth. You're bound to the laws of the Labyrinth as much as I am, and I deserve the chance." It was a bold move, and Sarah hoped he didn't kill her for it.

The Goblin King turned around and laughed. It was a cruel and deep sound, and Sarah shuddered as a chill ran through her body. "Very well then, you impudent girl." He waved a hand and the nursery dissolved around them. Sarah found herself on a hill overlooking the Labyrinth itself, the great forest that separated the two kingdoms behind her. A false sun hovered over the kingdom, directly in contrast to the brewing storm behind her in her own kingdom.

"Enjoying the view?" Sarah jumped at the Goblin King's question in her ear.

"Of course."

"Not for long, you won't." This time he was on her other side, and she was surprised again. He gestured to a stunted tree nearby, where a strange thirteen hour clock hung. "You will have thirteen hours to solve my Labyrinth. Fail, and I will keep the Prince and leave you back in that castle to explain his absence." He leaned in closer. "I doubt the Queen will be amused at your answer."

"And if I win?" Sarah's voice trembled as she asked the question, fear of the Goblin King and the sight before her tempering her resolve.

"No one has yet," he answered cheerfully, smiling an eerie grin. Sarah remembered her mother's tales and shivered.

"You haven't answered my question," she squeaked.

A look of annoyance crossed the Goblin King's handsome face. "If you win, and I guarantee you won't, the child will be restored to you and you will be returned to that dreary castle. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Well then, I suggest you start. Your time is already running out, and you'll need every second you can get." With that he disappeared, and Sarah glanced at the clock. Five minutes lost already! She pulled up her skirts and started down the hill, toward the Labyrinth that promised so much trouble.

*

Jareth appeared in his throne room, decidedly refreshed by this new mortal player in his game. "I really do have to thank you," he said to the air, trusting the Labyrinth would hear him. "This is a most wonderful surprise."

"_I am pleased to hear your approval."_ The Labyrinth responded warmly, a tinge of exuberance radiating from within. _"I trust Sarah is to your liking, then?"_

Jareth furrowed his brow in confusion. "Sarah?"

"_The mortal."_ He felt amusement threaded in the Labyrinth's 'voice.' "_I like this one very much. If she fails, may I keep her?"_

"I may be your King, but I do not control you. Do whatever you like," Jareth answered dismissively.

"_Thank you."_ With the matter settled, the Labyrinth quieted, leaving Jareth to his thoughts. It had been a while since anyone had dared run the Labyrinth, but of all the challengers, he could not recall one that had ever been so interesting. She had dared to question him, and she had held her ground against his deliberate taunts. As an added bonus, she was incredibly beautiful for a human, and she held the potential to become even more so, given time to mature. Jareth briefly wondered if, just based on sheer potential, she might grow to rival some of the fey in looks. He dismissed the thought and focused on his newest, screaming prize: the Prince Tobias.

The baby was quite ordinary looking, all things considered. He had his father's brilliant blue eyes, but he was as fair as the blonde witch that was his mother, and showed all signs of staying that way. Jareth moved to pick up the wailing baby, but shied away when he felt the dark taint emanating from the boy. He frowned and wondered what exactly had been in that castle to leave such a powerful impression on the child. With the lightest of touches, Jareth dismissed the dark magic and the child promptly stopped crying and looked up at the Goblin King.

Jareth picked the baby up and deposited him in a summoned bassinette. The child fell asleep almost immediately, tired after all that crying. Content to have a degree of quiet in the room, Jareth sprawled into his throne and called forth a crystal. He glanced at the baby, then back into the crystal. "Now let us see what your caretaker has been up to, hmm?" He was surprised by her apparent resourcefulness. She had made it inside the Labyrinth walls, in spite of the outer guardian, Hog-something-or-other.

Jareth rolled his eyes. Hog-whatever was a gardener most of the time, and an obstacle to the runners the rest. He quietly interfered by irritating and distracting the runners. Apparently, Sarah had gotten by him with little wasted time, as she was in before the first hour was up. The illusion of the walls didn't prove to be too inconvenient to the girl either. Jareth sat back in his throne and wondered if maybe, just maybe, this girl would be any different than the others that had run his Labyrinth in the past.

Elsewhere in Ennevar, while the Goblin King pondered on the girl, the Labyrinth allowed itself a giddy moment of triumph. Linnaea's child had finally grown up and had come back to the force that had given her life. True, the situation was less than ideal, what with the king and the girl on opposite ends of the game, but the Labyrinth ignored that silly little triviality. Jareth's interest was piqued, and unless something unforeseen was wrenched into the scenario, all would go according to the Labyrinth's plans, and they were grand plans indeed.

Now all that the Labyrinth needed to do was ensure that the girl won the game. Probably it didn't need to worry about such a thing, since a part of the Labyrinth's power was firmly embedded in the fabric of Sarah's being, but it liked to have a contingency plan, just in case Jareth didn't cooperate. The Labyrinth sent out a silent mental compulsion to three of its favorite occupants to help the girl, then tamed some of the more dangerous traps the girl might happen into. After that, the Labyrinth cleared the way for Sarah, allowing the girl to make immense progress quickly. If she kept up her pace, Jareth himself would have to interfere, and they'd be forced to get to know each other. Satisfied with its preparations, the Labyrinth waited for its plans to come to fruition.

*

Initially, Jareth was unconcerned. This Sarah was just an ordinary mortal servant, right? He continued with that line of reasoning up until the point she reached the first oubliette. With the right directions, a path could be traced from the oubliette to the castle in under an hour, and she had ten hours left. Jareth began to suspect the girl had help. He didn't want to blatantly ask the Labyrinth if it was giving out any amount of aid, but he couldn't help but think it.

To keep the Labyrinth distracted, he sent Hogsnout after the girl to return her to the beginning. When that didn't happen, he had to interfere personally. Coming face to face with Sarah again was a strange shock. Her stubborn determination and her devotion to the boy struck a chord somewhere within him. Over the course of the next few hours, he was forced into contact with her again and again, and he couldn't help but admire her strength of spirit and indomitable will. She attracted friends over the course of her journey through the Labyrinth, and he couldn't help but feel jealous of them, that ragtag bunch of lonely monsters that knew not what kind of jewel they traveled with.

He hatched a plan for Hogglin to betray her, to sidetrack her, to make her forget all about the quest. A peach, perfect in appearance, was spelled to gift her with her dearest dream. Truth be told, Jareth had almost forgotten about it by the time she finally took a bite of it and dragged him into her fantasy. She was just so utterly distracting to him. Her presence formed a knot in his chest, one he could almost mistake for yearning, and that was unacceptable.

The Goblin King was nearly disappointed when he entered her dream. It was a masquerade ball, and Sarah was the Princess. He tried to quell the disheartened feeling in his heart at her shallow wish, but it was a poor attempt. They danced anyway, Jareth doing his best to keep her from remembering the Labyrinth and Sarah doing everything to restore her memory, albeit subconsciously. And just as she had almost destroyed his thoughts of her as a worthy woman, she remembered and destroyed her dream. The feeling of pride that welled up in his chest expanded, and he suddenly knew that he had to have her, no matter the consequences. He could not live without her.

To him, it was a reasonable revelation. The fey loved quickly. They could go centuries and never meet a true mate, and then in the course of an afternoon fall irrevocably in love with one person and never love another. It was just a bit unfortunate that she was a mortal nobody, but that was of little consequence. Better yet, the Labyrinth seemed to like her, since it was blatantly assisting her on the run, and there was a good chance that it might magically bind Sarah to him for the rest of his life.

The Labyrinth's mind ran along much the same thoughts. It was unbelievably happy that its plan had actually worked. Jareth had formed a bond to the girl, and it was only a matter of time before he actually informed Sarah of that fact. It never occurred to either of the magical beings that she might consider her responsibility as nursemaid to the royal brat more important than the fulfillment of all her dearest dreams. The final confrontation proved an unpleasant surprise to the both of them. Again, Jareth tried to offer her dreams, and she refused.

"_Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here, to the castle beyond the Goblin City, to take back the child that you have stolen."_

He tried to offer her his kingdom.

"_For my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom as great."_

Then, he offered his heart.

"_You have no power over me…"_

And with those six insignificant words, she broke the heart of a kingdom and the heart of its king.

*

True to his word, the Goblin King returned the baby and Sarah to the kingdom of their birth. They reappeared in the nursery moments after they left, a few hours older, and in Sarah's case, wiser. It was with a heavy heart that the Goblin King turned his back on the girl, unaware of her true identity, and retreated to his castle to mourn that which might have been. The Labyrinth also grieved, but not for itself. The Labyrinth felt its King's pain, but it wasn't just Jareth's emotional agony the Labyrinth sensed. The sentient maze was, to a certain extent, clairvoyant, and had a limited ability to see the future. Occasionally, it was wrong, as it was in those thirteen hours when Sarah ran the Labyrinth for her young brother, but for the most part, it was utterly right. To the Labyrinth's horror, it saw nightmares and death in Sarah's future. Even more troubling, Sarah was out of the Labyrinth's influence, and she had taken from the Goblin King his power to protect her. She was doomed, and there was nothing that could be done about it.

Sarah, unaware of her grim fate, for the most part enjoyed a charmed life after her jaunt through the Goblin Kingdom. She no longer resented her brother, and nothing Queen Katrinne did could faze her. No matter how odious the task, Sarah took to it with an industrious streak, never once complaining. No punishment seemed to do her any harm. For three years, nothing remotely negative was able to touch her, and her beauty grew exponentially. Before the castle's many eyes, she became a stunning woman of intelligence and grace, a lady in pauper's rags. For three years, nothing went wrong. Then came the day her father died…

*


	3. Monster in the Mirror

**Fairest**  
A Fanfiction by Heist

*

**Monster in the Mirror**

Only the intervention of the royal court at large allowed Sarah to attend her father's funeral. Whether they thought her a simpleton or not, she deserved to witness the burial of her only remaining parent. A good many of them thought her the idiot she was rumored to be that day, as she stood numbly before her father's grave, silent tears miserably rolling down her face. She ignored the gawking, and looked every inch the princess she'd been born as, clad in a fine black gown and dark veil. It was the first nice dress she'd had in years, but she couldn't appreciate the luxury as her father was lowered into the ground.

As a courtesy certainly not extended by the queen and sole ruler, Sarah was allowed an extra hour after the end of the funeral to pay her respects. She suspected it was the royal guard that allowed her the simple span of time, as they were one of the only groups left that showed any remnant of fealty to her. One of the guards tapped her on the shoulder when her time ran out, and she turned, never seeing the drooping white owl perched in the tree above the king's grave.

On her return to the castle, she was stripped of the gown and forced into an even shabbier dress than before and forced into the lowest ranks of the servants. She was given the hardest, dirtiest jobs and the most meager living of all those who worked in the castle, and still Katrinne's wrath was not satisfied. In her time as the cruel queen, she had lost none of her unearthly beauty, but she had not failed to notice Sarah's own natural loveliness increased almost daily. The rumor she had stripped the princess of her title from spite grew in force as the weeks passed, especially as the tasks she gave Sarah became increasingly degrading.

The only thing that still saved Sarah from the most terrible of punishments was Katrinne's confidence that she was the most beautiful woman in Istrien. Daily, she consulted a plain, slightly warped mirror above her vanity, and daily that mirror gave her the answer she desired. "Mirror, mirror, cast from sand, who is the fairest in the land?" she cried.

Every time, the mirror answered, "Rest Queen Katrinne, for 'tis true, there exists none fair as you." Katrinne was satisfied with that answer, and so was her position as the fairest assured.

One day, not so long after her husband's funeral, Katrinne lifted the cloth from the mirror and prepared to ask her question. The skeletal genii trapped inside the mirror warily glanced out at the woman and winced. Katrinne had branched out into the forbidden magics, and she had learned how to torture the genii bound to the mirror. Whenever he didn't answer with enough praise and drama, she tormented him. Today promised to be no exception.

"Mirror, mirror, cast from sand, who is the fairest in the land?"

The genii closed his eyes in anticipatory pain. "My Lady Queen, while fair, 'tis true that snow white Sarah fairer is than you." He was correct to fear, for the torment inflicted on the genii was far worse than ever before. He watched as she haphazardly tossed the cloth over the mirror, but she didn't entirely cover it. He watched as she summoned one of the guardsmen and gave her lethal command. For once, the genii feared for the poor girl more than himself.

He decided to take action. He was not bound to the mirror by choice, and he did not enjoy the geas that held him into the warped glass, always forced to tell the truth to any question asked. He was still a magical creature, though, and even held as he was, he could still contact those rare amazing creatures like him. He was aware of Sarah's quest and her defeat of the Labyrinth, as well as her secret origins.

The genii focused, and his form became visible in a pool of still water within the Labyrinth itself. It was no small task and he found himself exhausted, but he managed to convey what he'd seen to the spirit of the Labyrinth itself. The Labyrinth remained silent for the duration of the genii's story, and for a few moments afterwards. Then he felt the rage building, roaring in waves out from the center in a twisted tide of emotion. Anger didn't even begin to touch how the Labyrinth felt.

Eventually, the Labyrinth calmed enough to speak to the genii. _"I will… take care of things. You need not worry for the girl's welfare. I will take her in and shield her from this foul woman."_

"How?"

"_You need not concern yourself with the matter. I will take care of it. The less you know, the less the queen will be able to find out."_

Satisfied, the genii left, not daring to ask any further, knowing the queen would somehow force him to divulge whatever knowledge he acquired if she became aware of the plan. He returned to darkness. Apparently, the queen had finally completely covered the mirror, and the genii was left alone with his thoughts. _I hope the Labyrinth knows what it's doing_, he thought before falling into a turbulent rest.

*

Sarah was roughly shaken awake at some indeterminate time of the night. She cried out in protest, but was cut off by a hand pressed across her mouth.

"If you value your life at all," a quiet male voice hissed, "you'll come with me. Do you understand?" She nodded, and the hand left her face. The same hand took one of her own and he spoke again. "Follow me. Quietly. I'll explain everything later."

He led her with stealthy care through the servants' quarters and into the back kitchens. From the dim light of the dying hearth, she saw the deep blue uniform of the royal guard. He wordlessly handed her a bundle of fabric and turned around. Puzzled, Sarah pulled it open to find a gown and cloak. With grateful understanding, she pulled the dress over her thin sleeping shift and shrugged the cloak over her shoulders. She reveled in the feeling of the soft fabric against her skin, then tapped the guard on the shoulder.

"Thank you," she whispered as he turned around. He nodded, and took her hand again. They left the castle just as the first hints on dawn peeked over the horizon. Sarah only vaguely noticed the guardsman was leading her to the border. She was too lost in her own thoughts, wondering why the man was taking her anywhere, why he'd bothered to provide her with decent clothing, why he was taking this apparent risk.

She gasped when they finally crossed the border into Ennevar. Time ran differently in this place— tendrils of full daylight streamed down through the dense treetops. Sarah watched as the visible tense set of the guardsman's shoulders melted away. He turned to her, a relieved yet apprehensive expression in his pale eyes. Sarah stilled in recognition; the dark hair and light eyes, so different from the norm in Istrien, marked him as Horandi, from the same distant lands as her mother.

He studied her for a moment, then spoke. "Katrinne wants you dead," he said without preemption.

Sarah blinked, then retorted, "Then why did you bring me out here? You could kill me just as easily in the castle."

He laughed then, a deep hearty ringing sound piercing the morning air. Sarah crossed her arms impatiently. "I'm not going to kill you," he said finally. "I brought you out here to save you."

"I fail to see how bringing me to Ennevar is going to save me."

The guardsman sobered. "Yesterday, Katrinne ordered me to take your life, but she didn't specify how she wanted me to accomplish that task. I brought you here because it's common knowledge that the Labyrinth kills the unwelcome; since you've been here before and come out unscathed, you'll be fine, and the Queen will assume you're dead."

She paled, and asked shakily, "How did you know I've been to the Labyrinth before?"

"I'm a seer," he replied. "Several years ago, before the death of the former queen, your mother, I had a vision of you in the Labyrinth, fighting to get a child back. Since you were little more than a child yourself in this vision, I consulted your lady mother on whether she was to bear again soon, because the babe could not possibly be your own. She denied such a possibility, and I was left to wonder. It was not long thereafter that the Queen died, and Katrinne came to power. When she had a child of her own, I wondered when my prophecy would come to pass. Then, not three years ago, I began to hear rumors from the border that the Goblin King was in a fine temper after a mortal servant defeated his Labyrinth, and I knew then my vision was proved."

"That was a fluke, a random stroke of luck," Sarah protested. "Just because I made it through the Labyrinth once is no reason to believe I could do it again."

"I believed as much myself," the guardsman replied. "But last night, I had another vision. The Labyrinth itself spoke to me in a dream and told me it would protect you from all that would harm you, that it had done so before when you had run the challenge to save your brother."

Sarah thought back to her incredible thirteen hour journey and all the frightening and dangerous moments. Truth to be told, she thought, no one moment was life threatening. Challenging and sometimes disgusting yes, but never truly dangerous. She gasped in understanding.

"You are very important to the Labyrinth," he explained, and felt guilty at his half-truth. It was not a lie, but it was not the matter in which the Labyrinth had sworn him to silence.

"_This is my child,"_ the Labyrinth told him. _"Mine. I will not allow some petty mortal witch to destroy one of my own."_

"But the King and my Lady Linnaea, were they not also involved?"

"_They were pawns, a means to my end. Linnaea was barren. She came to me and begged for a child; she never required that it be her own."_

The guard understood. He had been raised on the same myths and legends as Linnaea, and he knew of the Labyrinth's power, as well as the cost of bargaining with it. He was more aware of the outcomes of asking the Labyrinth for a favor.

"What is your end, your final goal?" he asked cautiously.

"_My purposes are my own. It is not for you to wonder at how I move those that belong to me."_ The guardsman suddenly comprehended what the Labyrinth wasn't telling him. He wondered if the rumors of the Goblin King's ire weren't misinterpretations of thwarted love. _"It is for you to protect the girl. I claim her as my own, but that does not mean that Linnaea and Willim's blood does not flow in her veins."_

"But you said…"

"_I implied. She is heir to her kingdom by right of blood and she is heir to mine by right of the magic that chases that blood through her veins. Your loyalty to her is just as guaranteed as your loyalty to her mother. You will protect Sarah best from this 'Katrinne' by delivering her into my care. Do you understand?"_

"Yes." And he had. He had done everything the Labyrinth asked of him, and now he stood before the princess of two lands with her impossible eyes scrutinizing him.

"What about the Goblin King?" Sarah asked. "He was always able to find me before. What is to stop him now?"

"He was looking for you then, and only because he knew you were there. With the Labyrinth hiding you, it might be years before he notices you're no longer where he left you." _But if what I suspect is correct_, he thought, _it might only be a few days. This might be profoundly interesting if so much wasn't at stake._

"Are you sure?" Sarah's face was stricken with uncertainty.

The guardsman took her hand again. "Come with me. We've tarried long enough at the border. I need to get you inside the Labyrinth by midday."

"Why?"

"There's a chance Katrinne has a way to watch us. The clothes you're wearing make it difficult, but the Labyrinth makes it next to impossible."

Sarah paused in confusion, pulling the guardsman to a halt. "What do these have to do with anything?" She tugged at the dress and cloak. "They aren't enchanted, are they?"

The guardsman smiled. "Not in the traditional sense, no. My wife made these, and she wove in some of the most powerful protection spells of our people into the embroidery." Sarah fingered the trim on the green sleeves of the dress and felt a small thrill run through her hand. She felt the same in the edges of the brown cloak.

"It's wonderful," Sarah said. "But surely your wife didn't make these all last night. They can't have been meant for me originally."

"You're right again," the guardsman answered. "But the one my wife made them for died far too young. My wife thought it good and right that if she was unable to wear them, her daughter should."

"These were for my mother," Sarah said slowly, in awe of the lovingly made garments. "Your wife must have been close to my mother then."

"Not as close as they might have been. My wife was a handmaid and seamstress in the castle, and she only saw the Lady Linnaea maybe a few minutes of each day. Your mother was the beloved of our people, and when she married the king of this land, many of us followed her here without having ever met her. Lady Linnaea was compelling like that, but her time is passed now. Now, those of us that stayed after the death of your mother look to you as a precious reminder of her. Your disappearance will be a crushing blow."

"Why? I had thought the rumors made everyone abandon me."

The guardsman looked distinctly uncomfortable for a moment. "With Katrinne on the throne, it has become unsafe for anyone to speak out against her, especially our people. We remind her too much of the former queen and we make her nervous. I was selected to 'dispose' of you because of my ties to your mother. It would prove our loyalty to Katrinne if one of our people murdered the darling princess."

Sarah smiled. "And you're flaunting that loyalty by helping me, but you're protecting your people at the same time."

"Yes." They stopped walking at the top of a hill. Sarah looked over and saw the same stunted tree from her first visit to the Labyrinth, then dared to look at the maze that consumed her view.

Sarah turned to the guardsman. "If I never see you again, thank you for bringing me here. And thank your wife for the dress." She started down the slope of the hill and paused to look back. "You've done all this for me and I don't even know your name!" she cried.

"It's probably all for the best," he called back. "If you should return while Katrinne is still in power, it might endanger many if you were to ask for the man who was supposedly responsible for your death. It could endanger many even if you came back and didn't ask for me." He let the knowledge sink into her mind. "And remember that if you should need aid while here, you need only ask the Labyrinth."

"It's never helped me before."

"Have you ever asked?" With that cryptic question, the guardsman faded back into the forest, leaving Sarah to wonder at his words. Finally, she shrugged and continued down the hill to the Labyrinth. This time, there was no Hoggle to help her, and the trick with the gates didn't work. Sarah stomped a foot in frustration, and decided to take the guardsman's suggestion.

"Labyrinth, will you help me find the gate?" she asked, feeling rather foolish.

A warm voice chuckled in her mind. _"My dear, I thought you'd never ask." _

_*_

Katrinne woke that morning with a smile on her nearly perfect face. She languished in her overlarge bed and stretched like a lascivious cat, then summoned her servants to prepare her for the day in a manner befitting of Queen. She was vaguely irked that she was still in the requisite mourning period and was obligated to wear black, because the color tended to offset her complexion and make her look like she was wearing a bruise. With careful selection, though, she could make the color work for her. That day, Katrinne chose a deep wine-red robe and offset the deep colors with the most brilliant gold and ruby pieces the royal vaults had to offer. She wanted to look her best when the mirror confirmed the royal brat's death.

When the preparations were complete, Katrinne banished her servants from the room and sat before her vanity. She ripped the heavy velvet from her mirror and smiled predatorily at the genii trapped in the warped glass. "Mirror, mirror, cast from sand, who is the fairest in the land?"

The genii flinched, then sighed and answered. "My Lady Queen, while fair, 'tis true that snow white Sarah fairer is than you."

Katrinne stilled, cold fury palpable on her frozen pale face. That her rage was silent was a truly terrible sign. Only a slight thinning of her lips as she pressed them together betrayed her. "Show me," Katrinne whispered harshly.

The genii moaned in sorrow as his magic spiraled away out of his control, the geas on the mirror overpowering his meager defenses. An image of Sarah was revealed in the glass, and Katrinne leaned forward, her eyes narrowed in angry anticipation. A moment later, her eyes widened in surprise and her brows rose nearly to her hairline.

The genii was confused by the decidedly odd reaction and checked the image himself. Understanding of Katrinne's shifting expressions struck him immediately when he realized where the princess was.

"He took her to the Labyrinth," Katrinne whispered as she leaned back into her chair. "He took her into the Labyrinth!" she repeated loudly, glee coloring her outburst. She clapped her hands with childish joy and thrashed her legs, uncaring of the giddy, undignified picture she made. "Oh that brilliant, ruthless man!" she cried.

"My Queen?" the genii asked fearfully.

"My wonderful guardsman," Katrinne began effusively, "took the brat to the Labyrinth, and he left her there. He did better than just kill her. He saved us the blame and the uncomfortable mess of murdering her and dropped her into the Labyrinth." She kicked her feet again and continued. "She'll wander the maze for days and either starve or be consumed by the monsters within. And we will not be responsible for her death. Priceless!" Sinister laughter bubbled out of her throat and echoed through the room.

When she finally composed herself, "Katrinne mused, "I must give that guardsman a commendation. And as for you," she addressed the girl in the distant maze, "I will check in on you in a few days when you look a little less _alive_."

Despite the Bitch-Queen's overbearing joy, the genii couldn't help but hide a grin of his own at Katrinne's foolish assumption. Even with the certainty of pain, he couldn't wait to see the queen's face when she learned Sarah was thriving inside the Labyrinth.

*

Miles away from Katrinne and her dark mirror, Sarah wandered the Labyrinth, ignorant of the distant queen's watching gaze. She was more preoccupied by thoughts of another closer, and in Sarah's mind, more dangerous monarch. She remembered the guardsman's words and wondered if the Goblin King's anger had been great enough for rumors of it to cross the border. Visions of his sardonic smile danced before her eyes, as well as his desperate expression before she spoke the words of his defeat.

In the years since her desperate run through the Labyrinth, her dreams had often featured the Goblin King. After every royal ball, she dreamed about the dance she'd shared with him. One particularly winding servants' stair brought reminders of that twisted room of stairs in his castle. She avoided the kitchens whenever peaches were in season. For three years, nearly everything had reminded her of him, and now she had waltzed back into his seat of power, but it was herself she was trying to save this time. Now, her mind was taken over by thoughts of him, and the thought of how angry he must have been when she defeated his unbeatable Labyrinth paralyzed her.

Sarah stopped walking at a juncture in the stone maze and sank into a corner. She huddled on the ground and curled into herself as fear assailed her mind. When she'd run the Labyrinth before, she'd had no time for fear. Without a time limit, that fear and uncertainty attacked her now without mercy. She couldn't leave because her stepmother wanted to kill her, and she couldn't stay for fear of what the Goblin King might do. Adding to this was the constant murmuring of the Labyrinth in her ear, and she couldn't take it anymore. Sarah broke down in sobs, a painful keening wail rising from her throat.

The Labyrinth, already concerned from Sarah's frantic wanderings, began to panic. It wasn't supposed to be like this. The Labyrinth had a lot of power, and had the ability to rearrange itself as well as compel its denizens to do its bidding. It even had a degree of control over its so called "rulers," but rarely exercised it. There were a few beings that dwelled inside its walls that the Labyrinth didn't control, though, and the amount of noise Sarah was making in her distress was bound to attract the more unsavory elements of that group. Even now, it sensed a few of its more vile occupants stirring to investigate the source of the miserable noise, and that was not good.

The Labyrinth had another option, an ultimate trump card, but it had been saving it for a later, direr situation. It was a final gamble, and if the Labyrinth wagered wrong, all could be lost, especially where Jareth was involved. The Labyrinth silently probed the Goblin King's mood and mentally flinched. Neither party involved in this last gambit was in the best of moods, but the Labyrinth desperately hoped it would work.

The Labyrinth quietly tapped into Sarah's mind. The girl was too upset to notice as the Labyrinth tiptoed around her memories and dove into her soul. The Labyrinth emerged a moment later, feeling somewhat victorious. When Linnaea had made her initial bargain nearly two decades earlier, the Labyrinth had combined the intended child's parents, the power of Linnaea's people and its own native fount of magic. It had expected a favorable result, and watched Sarah develop from afar. By all the signs, Sarah was far from human, but the Labyrinth was hard pressed to define what exactly she was, and it was this quick examination that confirmed its suspicions.

Sarah was every bit as fey as Jareth was, albeit in a different capacity. Sarah's soul was fey to the core, and that was all the Labyrinth needed to confirm. During Sarah's initial trip through the Labyrinth, Jareth had formed a bond to the young woman. That was to be expected, after all, since the Labyrinth had created Sarah to be a perfect complement to the Goblin King. When Sarah had renounced him though, she had torn that bond to shreds, leaving Jareth's emotions addled for months. She had also taken away his ability to find her or help her, and this had proved problematic, especially given the current crisis.

Fortunately, Sarah's fey nature, whether she was aware of it or not, had latched onto Jareth like a being dying of thirst. Hers was a dormant bond, but it was present, and it was now going to save her life. The Labyrinth hoped Sarah's magical inexperience didn't kill her or her unaware bonded, and stirred it to life. Magic fed the bond and woke it until it strained at the edge of Sarah's mind. The Labyrinth was impressed at the strength of it but held it in check for a moment.

"_Jareth, forgive me for what I am about to do,"_ the Labyrinth whispered into his mind.

*

The Goblin King was irritated. Irritation was only the tip of the iceberg though. Not long ago, his former friend and confidant had followed his first wife into the next world, leaving the vile Katrinne on the neighboring throne. Her now full autonomy gave her the right to unleash her horrible taint upon the country, and the corrosive dark magic she used had encroached on his on borders in a most unacceptable way. Then there was her unlawful usurpation of the crown; Willim's eldest and rightful heir was of age and idiot or not she deserved to sit her father's throne. That Katrinne refused to yield was another black mark on his day.

Adding to this foreign problem was the distress of his Labyrinth. It was upset about something, and it refused to tell him about it. Early in the day, it had been nearly overjoyed about something, almost happier than the day—_don't think about her, Jareth_—_she_ had come to the Labyrinth. That happiness had slowly degenerated to amusement to confusion, and now the Labyrinth was in a near frenzy. Still it refused to divulge any information. When some of the most insidious residents of the Labyrinth began to wake, Jareth knew the situation had escalated beyond simple annoyance.

He was on the verge of asking the Labyrinth what the problem was when it reached a new height of distress, coupled with a grim satisfaction. Then the Labyrinth broke its silence. _"Jareth, forgive me for what I am about to do,"_ the Labyrinth whispered. He barely had a moment to ponder that statement before the remnant of his bond to Sarah flared to sudden painful life. Jareth cried out in agony as his bond fumbled for a mate and found one, rebuilding itself far too quickly for comfort. There was no time for comprehension as _Sarah_ flooded his senses. His mind raced to compensate and organize the experience into a mental encounter rather than a near-physical assault.

In the darkness between their minds, Jareth found Sarah curled into a distraught huddled mass, heaving panicked sobs. He instinctively pulled her to her feet and into his arms. For a moment, she cried gratefully into his shirt and clung to him, but the next moment she shot out of his embrace as she realized what she was doing.

"You're not here. This isn't real," she chanted as she surveyed his waiting form. "This is a figment of my extremely active imagination and you're going to disappear now." She closed her eyes and clapped her hands over her ears, and Jareth was tempted to laugh at her childish action.

While she was unaware of her surroundings, Jareth took the opportunity to circle behind her and clasp his arms around her waist. Sarah tried to pull away again, but Jareth was prepared and tightened his grip on the girl. "Let go of me!" she cried, her distress at being caught overriding her fear of whatever had thrown her mind into calamity in the first place. He hushed her and brought his chin to her shoulder. She flinched at the touch and turned her head away from him. Jareth seized a chance at contact and pressed his lips into the curve of her neck. Sarah's breath caught in her throat and she shivered as his lips curled into a smile on her skin.

"You precious girl," he murmured, "How is it that I come to find you all a-quiver in my mind?"

"I don't know," she whispered harshly. Her trembling increased and he pulled away slightly. He wanted her, but he didn't want her to quake with terror at his touch. Jareth frowned. Something was wrong with this whole situation, and he suddenly remembered the Labyrinth's painful interference.

"What has gone so wrong with you that my Labyrinth deigns to drop you back into my power?" he wondered aloud.

"_No_," Sarah moaned. "No no no no no…"

Puzzled, Jareth asked for clarification. "What is it you protest so much?"

"You," she breathed. "You have no power over me." Sarah disappeared from his arms. He stumbled in her absence from his mind and tried to catch his breath. He was certain this time would be exactly like the last, but the brief moment in which she had ripped herself from his emotional grip hadn't torn him completely to shreds. There was no heart-shattering hurt to flood his form this time, and he marveled at how the darkness around him remained completely intact. For some reason he could not fathom, his bond to Sarah had been reformed and strengthened, as if she possessed a bond of her own.

He pulled back into awareness of his throne room, confused by the revelation. When she had run the Labyrinth before, Sarah had been human, and he was certain of it. An extraordinarily pretty human, but a human nonetheless. Humans didn't soulbond like his people did. They didn't have the magic and their souls were made of different stuff than his. It made no sense whatsoever.

Jareth shook his head free of the moment and steepled his fingers before his face. For now, there was nothing he could do, since the bond he'd been abruptly yanked into seemed only to flow one way. He decided to wait; surely there was a reason for Sarah's reappearance in his life, and it would not be so easily dismissed. He pulled the image of her stricken face into his mind. Whatever had so badly upset her had gradually built up and would probably continue to do so. Her eyes had spoken of sorrow and a bone-deep weariness long in the making. He had no doubt he would see her again, and soon.

*

Sarah's breath whooshed out of her throat as she fell solely back into her own mind, and unfortunately, back into the Labyrinth. Strangely, she felt slightly better at her predicament, and there were no more wracking sobs ripping through her body. She stood to compose herself, but froze momentarily when she heard the sound of something large lumbering in her direction. Beneath that great racket though, she felt the presence of the Labyrinth, silent as if it were holding its breath.

"Labyrinth?" she whispered.

"_Yes, Sarah?"_ She thought she detected a hint of cheerfulness inside the Labyrinth's impassive voice, but any possible reason for it escaped the girl.

"Where is the safest place to go here?"

The Labyrinth paused, as if deliberating. _"The castle,"_ it answered definitively.

"NO!" Sarah yelled, and clapped a hand over her mouth. She thought carefully for a moment, and whispered again. "Labyrinth, take me to Hoggle." The grating sound of sliding stone on stone filled the air. A clear path lay before her, unobstructed by any obstacles.

"_Quickly, before the King or the creature notices_," the Labyrinth told her. _"Quickly, before I must shift back."_ When Sarah hesitated, she felt a sense of slight annoyance in the Labyrinth. _"This is a temporary solution. HURRY."_

Sarah pulled her skirts up to her knees and ran as the Labyrinth directed her. In very little time at all, she entered the hedge maze, similarly rearranged. She barely paused to look over her shoulder and saw the stone maze returning to its original shape, and began running again. Ahead of her, she saw a vaguely familiar courtyard that didn't seem to be shifting and stopped to catch her breath.

Sarah leaned forward and braced her hands on her knees. She sucked air into her lungs with grateful heaves and waited for her fast-beating heart to calm. When she finally felt sufficiently caught up, she straightened and stretched her arms over her head. She let her arms drop back to her sides, but was surprised by a sudden yawn, and lifted a belated hand to stifle it. Without her panic, Sarah realized she was actually quite tired. The nameless guardsman had woken her in what must have been the earliest part of the morning and brought her across the border in a long and circuitous route. She'd also wandered the Labyrinth for what must have been at least five hours, as the bright afternoon sunshine was turning to early dusk as she stood there.

Sarah yawned again, this time catching it with her palm and surveyed the courtyard. She distantly recognized it as the same courtyard where she'd met the Wiseman three years prior with Hoggle. She saw the giant urn she'd clambered out of, and the large stone throne, but didn't see the sage or his sarcastic sentient hat. Deciding to rest for just a moment, she settled into the stone throne to wait for whatever the Labyrinth did next. Vowing only to give her tired eyes a respite, she closed her eyes and quickly fell asleep.

*

"Sarah? Izzat you Sarah? Sarah, wake up!" The gruff voice pierced Sarah's consciousness, but she kept her eyes firmly shut. She was simply too comfortable in her drowsing state and she didn't want to leave it.

"_Allow me,"_ a warm voice said softly, so Sarah barely registered it. Her blissful reverie was interrupted by a sudden surge of energy, accompanied by an extremely loud _"WAKE UP."_ She jolted forward from her slouch and collided with a small, heavyset body that she sent reeling backwards.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed as she rushed forward to assist the small, grumbling figure. She set the person to his feet, and in the ever-increasing twilight, recognized her friend Hoggle. She threw her arms around him and gently rocked back and forth, savoring the friendly contact.

"T'ain't no problem," he answered as she squeezed him. "If'n you'd just let me _breathe_ a bit." Sarah let go immediately and settled back onto her heels.

"I'm sorry, it's just that I'm so very glad to see you, Hoggle. It's been a long three years." Unbidden tears sprang to her eyes and she tried to blink them away.

Hoggle looked a bit abashed and awkwardly ground a foot into the stone tiles of the courtyard. "'S been three years all right," he finally grumbled. At her distressed look, he amended his statement. "Three years, and you're all growed up now. You got real pretty," he added helpfully.

Sarah sniffed. "I'm sorry I never called any of you, it's just that I didn't think you'd be safe where I was." In her first run through the Labyrinth, Sarah hadn't mentioned who she really was, and she wasn't about to let that change. As far as her friends knew, she had been a foolish servant desperate to win back her charge. Apparently, some of her anxiety about being discovered showed on her face, because Hoggle roughly patted her shoulder.

"'S okay," he said. "You're back now, and that's what matters." Sarah slowly rose to her feet, greatly relieved at his acceptance, but paused as a puzzled expression settled on Hoggle's face. "Why are you back anyways?" he asked. Sarah blanched at the question. "You don't got to tell me," he said quickly.

"That's all right," Sarah answered shakily. "The Queen in my country is angry with me." _True enough_, she justified in her mind. "She gave orders to have me killed. I don't really know why." And she didn't. Sarah hadn't thought to ask the guardsman why Katrinne had given the order; she had been too preoccupied with the fact that someone she barely knew could desire her death. It didn't occur to her that Katrinne might want her to die because of _spite_.

Hoggle stood up straighter, a most affronted look on his little face. "Well," he said forcefully. "Well. We'll just have to take you someplace that nasty lady won't be finding you." He took her hand and pulled her toward a break in the hedge wall. "We should prob'ly find a way to hide you from Jareth too. He wasn't too happy at all after you left. 'E'd likely never leave you alone if he found you back here."

"Can you do that?" Sarah asked. They turned right at a hedge wall and went further into the dizzying maze. She wondered how she'd ever learn to navigate the many passages through the Labyrinth, and gave up thinking about it.

"_I_ can't," Hoggle admitted grumpily.

"_But I can,"_ the Labyrinth spoke in her ear. Sarah jumped.

"I will never get used to that," Sarah murmured.

"_You might,"_ the Labyrinth said cheerfully. They took a few more turns, and Sarah gasped as the maze opened into a clearing. The forest stretched on as far as her eyes could see in both directions, except for a narrow footpath that wound through a gap in the trees. She followed Hoggle down the path and was amazed when it led into an open field. In the distance, she could pick out the black and white of cows grazing peacefully. Less distantly, she saw the castle looming over the treetops, silhouetted by the brilliant sunset behind it. She shuddered and pulled her warm cloak more tightly around her shoulders.

"Just a little ways farther," Hoggle said as he led her in the direction of the castle. They reentered the forest and followed another footpath through the trees, which somehow seemed less threatening than the last time she'd been there. Before long, they entered another clearing, and Sarah laughed in delight. The path widened into a large dusty circle, with a cheerful little well in the center. Lining the path were several quaint little cottages just inside the trees, making a small almost-village. Each doorstep was lit by a bright little lantern, as if to welcome its occupants home after a long day. It was just… _perfect_.

"Hoggle," Sarah exclaimed, "this is amazing!"

"It's home," he said simply. He led her to the largest of the cottages and opened the door. Sarah was barely inside when a great rumbling shook the house and she was scooped into a huge furry grip. She shrieked before realizing what exactly had happened.

"SAWAH BACK!" Ludo swung her in a lumbering circle before returning her to her feet.

"Ludo!" she yelled as she hugged him back with a fierce joy. She saw Hoggle off to the side and smiled at his incredibly pleased expression. "It's so good to see you again."

"Ludo happy Sawah back," the loveable monster stated, much calmer after getting used to her presence before him.

"I'm happy to be back too, Ludo," she answered. "Where's Sir Didymus?"

"He lives next door," Hoggle replied. "With Lady Dulcinea." At Sarah's curious look, he elaborated. "His _wife_."

They went into the kitchen for tea and biscuits provided by the gracious Lady Dulcinea, and Hoggle spun a surprisingly rousing story about Sir Didymus's courtship and conquest of the Lady, a relative newcomer to the Labyrinth from another highly magical kingdom on the Labyrinth's other borders. The rest of the evening flew by, and before long, Sarah was yawning again, this time for more than a brief nap. Hoggle hustled her upstairs to the room Sir Didymus had once occupied and she happily tucked herself into bed, to enjoy a long night without dreams.

Unbeknownst to Sarah, two others also had long and dreamless nights, but not for lack of trying. Across the border in Istrien, Queen Katrinne spent the night gleefully awake, too preoccupied with her plans for the future, freed from the obstacle the princess had made. The Goblin King was similarly awake, but Sarah filled his thoughts. He wondered why she'd been so frightened, how the Labyrinth had reformed his bond to her without her permission and what her life had been like for the past three years. He thought about the feel of her skin beneath his lips, the utter rightness he'd sensed when he held her in his arms. And he prayed into the morning hours that she'd one day allow him to hold her and truly kiss her without quaking in fear. _But first_, he vowed to himself, _I have to _find_ her, and I will._

_*_


	4. Dream Walker

**Fairest**  
A Fanfiction by Heist

*

**Dream Walker**

Within a few days, Sarah settled into the tiny village like she'd been born there. Hoggle had explained to her that it was the haven of the creatures of the Labyrinth that weren't goblins. They had no real place inside the goblin city, and instead chose to live outside its walls, yet still within its shadow of protection. Hoggle assured her that nearly none of the runners ever reached this protected place, so she was safe from any outsiders that might wish her harm, including Queen Katrinne. The Labyrinth offered its own promise that Jareth wouldn't find her, but Sarah placed a limited trust in its words. She suspected the Labyrinth wanted the Goblin King to find her, and she kept her guard up.

On her first full day, Hoggle had stayed behind in the cottage to see Sarah settled in before returning to his task as a gardener within the Labyrinth. She learned that nearly every resident of the village had a purpose within the great maze, and they spent most of their days fulfilling those purposes. Sir Didymus had taken to guarding another bridge closer to the village, and Ludo haunted the Fiery Forest, making sure that no unwary travelers lost their heads to the mischievous dancing birds. Even the Wiseman and his hat served as guides to the Labyrinth's ways. Most of the day, Sarah found she was the only person in the village, and she put her time to good use by beginning the chores Hoggle and Ludo lacked the time to do.

Sarah had never thought she'd be so happy doing chores, but getting the cottage ship-shape was a remarkably entertaining pastime. All day, she imagined the pleasure Hoggle and Ludo would get coming home to a tidy house with a hot dinner. She'd noticed the night before that the cupboards had been sadly lacking, and they'd nearly been living off Lady Dulcinea's charity. After the house was clean and all the laundry she could find out on a line to hang dry, Sarah took up the task of cooking. In her last year at the castle, she'd been transferred to the kitchens after she discovered she had a knack for baking, and she began with a fury now.

By the time Ludo and Hoggle got back from a long day in the Labyrinth, Sarah had produced four piping hot loaves of bread and a great kettle of soup. They enthusiastically thanked her, and within days, word of Sarah's baking skills had her making bread for the entire village. She was soon trading her bread for fresh produce and seeds to begin an herb garden. In spite of the unfortunate circumstances that brought her back to the Labyrinth, Sarah was happier than she'd been in years.

*

"NO!" Katrinne screeched at the genii in the mirror. "How is this possible? She should be dead, not cooking for those freaks! How did this happen?" Fury twisted her lovely features into an ugly sneer, barely visible in the warped glass, and the genii smiled inwardly, even when Katrinne cast her spell to torment him. He was right about Katrinne's ire; it had been worth the pain to see her scheme thwarted. And if she kept that expression any longer, it would carve permanent lines in her face, further ruining her day.

Katrinne increased the power of the spell until the genii was cringing inside the mirror, and she only relented when the genii sobbed in agony. "You will tell me why she still draws breath or I will ensure you never do so again." The agony ceased for half an instant, and the genii could not stop the flow of words from his mouth.

"She is under the Labyrinth's protection. Nothing that dwells within its borders may harm her. Unless the Labyrinth itself wills it, no one may endanger her life." The genii coughed and waited for the next onslaught, which never came.

Katrinne screamed in frustration and dragged her fingers through her disarrayed hair. She paced furiously across her chambers, forming a plan at a near break-neck pace. She scowled at a servant that ventured into the room with a breakfast tray, then abruptly halted and stared at the frightened young woman. The maid had frozen where she stood, and the china on the tray rattled from her trembling. Katrinne recalled this was a recent addition to her serving staff, back at work for the first time in over a year after having just given birth. She dismissed the girl with an irritated wave of her hand and swept into her personal library.

In the months since her husband had left the living world, Katrinne had gradually built up a small library of her many dark texts, and she needed them now. The skeletal outline of an idea had formed in her head, and she required more information to add flesh to her thought. Something she'd said earlier had echoed back into her ears, and she couldn't resist the irony of it. Additionally, she needed to ensure she wouldn't be implicated in this plan, and a disguise was absolutely vital to the success of this plan.

Katrinne discarded book after book, jotting down notes as she went, until she had nearly everything she needed but for the last piece. The last tome she opened contained legions of scrying and illusion-breaking spells. She suspected she'd also need a strong incantation to dispel protective wards, but that could come later. For her plan to move forward at all, Katrinne had to locate Sarah within the Labyrinth and create a trace that would lead her to the girl's refuge. It was a difficult piece of magic, one that could only be evoked directly from a book of power.

Katrinne slowly paged though the heavily bound grimoire with slow appreciation for the author's brilliance, and finally settled on the spell she needed. Katrinne ran her fingers over the carefully inked sigils, reciting the spell aloud as her other hand marked the motions to set the scry in place. The strain was immense as she reached the bottom of the page, and Katrinne had to force herself to finish the spell before she was entirely drained. The cloud of magic above her hand finally coalesced into a dart, which streamed out the window and into the distance. Katrinne wearily went to her mirror and waved her hand across the genii's horrified face.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," Katrinne said softly, a sinister smile on her lips.

*

Sarah was pounding flour into a sticky yeast roll when she sensed something was wrong. She dropped the rising bread back into the bowl and threw her gaze around the kitchen, unable to see detect a source of alarm. Even without anything seeming immediately threatening, her sense of foreboding increased. She jumped when the top half of the kitchen door banged open and a brilliant light flashed overhead. Sarah slowly backed up to the wall as the light intensified in the dim room and settled into a searching hum.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," her stepmother's voice rasped loudly in the stillness. Sarah yelped as the light settled over her head, and she dropped to the floor.

She looked around desperately for a moment before making a dive for the table. She pulled a chair out of the way and huddled beneath the heavy oaken slab, praying the light didn't follow. She wrapped her arms around her knees and silently screamed for anyone, anything to help her. She clenched her eyes shut, and felt the sudden sensation of freefalling into darkness.

Sarah snapped her eyes open and stared into the emptiness around her. It took only a moment for her to realize where she was, and she half-wondered if it wasn't an improvement over the seeking spell. She groaned in exasperation and looked around for a way out. She had thought about her most recent encounter with the Goblin King off and on during the time Hoggle and Ludo were gone, and she still had no idea of what had happened or how she got there in the first place. Even more frustrating was that she didn't know how she'd gotten _out_.

"Hello again," the Goblin King's husky voice whispered into her ear.

Sarah jolted into action and darted forward. She slowly turned around to face him and inhaled at the sight of him. The years hadn't touched him at all, from his youthful face to the cocky set of his shoulders. A rakish grin sat on his lips as he blatantly appraised her form, and she blushed at his audacity.

"Kindly keep your eyes to yourself," Sarah said in a mixture of embarrassment and fury. He grinned again and stepped forward to gather her in his arms. The soft leather of his glove traced a pattern on her bare shoulder before she forcefully shoved him away. "And your hands, sir!" she yelled, flustered by his proximity and the increasing shrillness of her own voice.

He laughed, and Sarah very carefully didn't think about what the glorious deep-timbred sound did to her nerves. "This isn't a laughing matter, Your Majesty," she hissed at him. He stopped laughing, but the mirth never left his unmatched eyes.

"Forgive me, my Lady," and he swept a mocking bow at her. "My behavior was most uncalled for, and I humbly beseech thy forgiveness."

"I am no Lady," she retorted, her years of royal protocol rankling at his casual display. "I am a pr—" She stopped herself from revealing anything and glared at him for her lapse into her previous life. "I am a prisoner here," she stuttered on, "and I do not appreciate being played the fool."

The Goblin King cocked his head. "I don't believe you," he said simply. "And I sincerely doubt you meant to say that. What was it you were about to say?" he challenged.

"It's of no concern of yours," Sarah answered defensively. "And even if it were, I wouldn't tell you." She crossed her arms and huffed. "I also don't appreciate your implying I was untruthful. I didn't ask to come here!"

"But you did," he parried smoothly. "And you dragged me along with you."

Sarah sputtered. "I did no such thing! I was having a perfectly nice day before she set her searching spell on me and before I knew anything I was here." The Goblin King's posture stiffened and Sarah clapped her hand over her traitorous mouth.

"Who set a scry on you?" the Goblin King asked softly, but Sarah heard the underlying steel in his voice.

"Nobody," Sarah whispered. He strode forward and lifted her chin with a gloved finger. He looked into her eyes like he could draw the answer from them, and Sarah stared back into his own. Before now, she'd never been close enough to tell what colors his eyes were, only noticing they were different colors. Now, she saw them clearly: one was a deep golden amber, and the other was a blue-tinged green. On any other person, they would be strange, but they complemented his exotic features and added to his good looks. His eyes narrowed at her lack of forthcoming, and Sarah wondered at the emotions roiling behind his gaze.

"Liar," he breathed over her lips. "Answer the question, _girl_."

Before she could stop herself, the answer broke out of her on an exhale. "The Queen." Sarah closed her eyes and stumbled back as he released his grip on her.

"Katrinne?" Puzzlement slipped onto his face, and her lack of denial answered for her. "Why?"

"She wants to kill me," Sarah blurted, and she clamped her mouth shut, for fear that whatever power he had to force the truth from her would continue.

"Why?" the Goblin King demanded again. Sarah bit her tongue and shook her head. "You are no threat to her," he thought aloud, "a mere nursemaid. Unless you aren't…" He grabbed her shoulders and shook her gently. "Who are you, really?"

Sarah refused to meet his eyes for the spell they cast on her. "No one of consequence," she whispered painfully. "No one important."

The Goblin King gave her an accusing look, then leaned forward. "You could have been, Sarah. I would have done anything for you." Hurt permeated his voice, and something stabbed inside Sarah's chest.

"You were trying to stop me from winning your little game. You would have painted that lie for any woman near to the end of your puzzle-trap," Sarah lashed back. She pulled away, but he snaked an arm behind her head and held her to him.

"I have not made that offer to any other but you, _my Queen_. I will not be so foolish again," he told her, his voice low. He let go of her abruptly and turned his back to her. "Now if you will kindly release me from your mind, I would like to leave."

"My mind?" Sarah stared at his back, appalled. "I didn't bring you here. I didn't bring myself here. I don't even know where here is!"

"And we dance around the circle and back." He sighed. "It seems we are at an impasse, my Lady. You don't know how to leave, and I don't know that I want to tell you."

"How quickly you change your mind," Sarah replied frostily.

"So sayeth fickle woman," he said over his shoulder as he turned around. Sarah didn't like the malicious smirk that came onto his face. "I might change my mind again, for the right compensation."

"What could I possibly give you that you don't already have?" Sarah asked cautiously, afraid she already knew the answer.

His smirk changed to a wicked grin that danced across his features. If Sarah hadn't resented him so much, she might have found the expression charming. "_Let me rule you._ I'm sure you remember the rest." The syllables fell from his lips like the venom of a deadly snake, and Sarah recoiled.

"Never," she whispered in horror.

"Am I really so bad as you think I am?"

"Yes," she hissed. He raised an eyebrow in amusement and he slowly stepped toward her. Realizing how her one word answer could be misconstrued, she stammered, "I mean, no…" Before she could say anything else, his mouth descended to hers and she temporarily lost the ability to form thoughts. He pulled back and chuckled at her dazed look.

"Never isn't that long at all," he announced cheerfully. "I think I shall wait it out and see what you do."

Sarah opened and closed her mouth several times before remembering what she had been trying to say. "No," she said firmly. "You'll never—" Her eyes lit up, and the Goblin King's eyes narrowed at her look of inspiration. "You have no power over me."

His disapproving look dissolved before her eyes and the darkness fell away from her. She opened her eyes and found herself huddled beneath the kitchen table again. The strange spell-light was gone, and Sarah crawled out of her hiding place.

Her knees creaked uncomfortably as she stood up and she put her hands to her aching back. Sarah stretched her arms over her head and winced when she saw the overblown state of her bread dough. It was entirely ruined, left to rise too long without enough flour, and she was forced to throw it out. She managed to rescue the pot of soup she'd been making before the light, and her interlude with the Goblin King, had interrupted her routine, and she had another loaf of bread baking by the time Ludo and Hoggle returned.

Sarah occasionally recalled bits of her conversation with the King throughout dinner, as Hoggle animatedly described the happenings of the day, and she debated with herself whether or not to tell her companions about Katrinne's spell. She still wasn't sure if it had been successful or not, and the Labyrinth had promised that no harm would come to her during her stay here, so she shrugged it off and ignored it. If anything came of the spell, she would deal with it as it came to her.

Sarah retired early that night, still unnerved by her earlier encounter, hoping to find peace in a good night of sleep. Instead, her dreams were filled with phantom caresses and the feel of his mouth on hers, and that strange look in his amber and aquamarine gaze as he asked her who she was. Hers was a restless night indeed.

*

Jareth spent much of the next day searching his library for the answers Sarah refused to give him. Her second appearance inside the bond had stirred his curiosity about many things, and he fully intended to discover the truth about all of them. Just looking at her had confirmed that he still loved her, no, adored her, and the torture of being unable to see her unless she was distressed was disheartening. He was certain that stress and strong emotion triggered her bond, since she clearly wasn't calling him consciously.

That fact brought Jareth to one of his unsolvable questions: how had she come to be soulbonded to him? Jareth had been quite sure she was human until the Labyrinth had awakened the bond, but now he wasn't so sure. She was far too beautiful to be mortal, but she had matured far too quickly to be one of the fey. He supposed it was possible, but it took a pretty bit of spellwork and far more power than was ordinarily feasible to cause a fey child to age as a human. Her eyes were certainly uncommon enough to belong to one of the fey, in that refreshing silvery-green, which was rare even among his people.

But that forced him to question whether any of his kind would stoop low enough as to allow a precious daughter to act as a common servant. The fey were a proud people, and to place one of their own in such a position was a grave humiliation never to be borne. That of course, ruled out the fey theory and, by reason of excluding all the other options, made Sarah thoroughly human.

Still, _humans couldn't soulbond_. Could not. Ever. Jareth didn't doubt the Labyrinth's interference in these events, but even the Labyrinth couldn't change the substance of a person's soul. The magic required for such a union was always present at birth, and Jareth knew of no humans that passed on their magic hereditarily. He found no cases of such ever happening in his books, either. He was well and truly stumped.

However, just because he didn't know _what_ Sarah was didn't mean Jareth couldn't discover _who_ she was. She was not what she pretended to be, despite all her protestations to the contrary. Jareth drafted a letter to his kin in the eastern land of Angelore, asking for assistance in that regard. He was the only one of his kind inside the Labyrinth, and he dared not entrust a goblin or one of the other inhabitants for aid in this regard. The only choice remaining to him was to summon someone who could masquerade as a human long enough to puzzle out the necessary information.

A response came before the day was out, and his many-times-distant cousin Irias materialized shortly before dusk. Irias was a minor lordling of some backwater province in Angelore, though that was not the source of his value. He was a truly gifted spy, with a talent for trickery and disguise, but he was also a relentless gossip and snooping busybody. Additionally, Irias was one of the more psychically gifted of the fey, and Jareth's soulbond would be painfully obvious to him. Jareth was certain he'd never hear the end of it if Irias discovered he was enamored with a mortal, or a seeming one.

Jareth came upon his wayward cousin in one of the many gardens surrounding his castle. Irias seemed to be engrossed in a particular stand of roses, and a look of utter concentration was focused in his golden eyes. The dark-haired fey man turned to face Jareth and his mouth dropped open in shock.

"Don't. Say. Anything," Jareth warned. "I'm not in the mood."

Irias whistled. "I can see that," he said mildly. "It's really quite a good look for you."

Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "If we could focus on the task at hand, please? I'm developing a terrific headache, and I'd like to see you gone."

Irias clapped his hands and strode out of the garden to disappear with a loud pop. Jareth rolled his eyes and summoned a crystal to transport him wherever Irias had seen fit to go. He reappeared in his private study, one of the few where goblins were strictly forbidden to enter, and found the fey man nursing a glass of one of his finer wines. He gave Irias a warning look and leaned against his desk.

"I didn't literally mean I wanted to see you gone at that moment."

Irias smiled against the rim of his wine glass at Jareth. "You know how I always was about taking directions."

"Only when they suit your intentions or allow for ironic humor," Jareth muttered. "Can we get on with this?"

"Very well," Irias said as he put down his glass and folded his hands. "What's her name? Something exotic, I'd imagine, what with your tastes and all. You always did have a particular fascination with brunettes before you ascended to the throne. Remind me of that one woman's name, something that began with a 'V'—"

"Enough!" Jareth roared. "It's none of your business, and I should like to get back to the matter at hand before we all die of old age!"

"I was being perfectly serious," Irias answered with mock effrontery. "I was asking about this girl you want me to investigate. Though why you'd be interested in finding anything out about some silly little girl when you have a soulbond is beyond me."

Jareth eyed the other man, but nothing in his demeanor suggested he thought anything other than what he'd said. "Her name is Sarah."

Irias crinkled his nose. "That's a Horandi name, but dreadfully common. What possible interest could you have in her?"

"She defeated my Labyrinth," Jareth ground out, and the words were bitter in his mouth, even three years after the fact.

"Ah, it's _that_ girl. I've heard of her. A nursery maid, wasn't she?" Amusement colored his voice, and Jareth noted an alarming twinkle in the other man's golden eyes. Jareth nodded stiffly and Irias stifled a laugh. "We know so much about her already! Why did you request my skills then?"

"I want to know who she is that she was able to solve the Labyrinth." Jareth almost winced at the thin excuse. "And I also want to know her relationship to the Queen, that Katrinne would want her death." Irias frowned.

"An odd request, to be sure." Irias paced toward the door and stopped. "How do you know the Bitch Queen wants her dead, and why do you care? You have other things to worry about, like your bonded's jealousy when she learns of this little scheme. But why is it that I don't recall any time in the last century when you could have soulbonded anyone? You haven't been back to Angelore in the last thirty years, and I haven't observed any newly bonded ladies." Jareth held his breath as Irias furrowed his eyebrows in thought. The other fey's eyes abruptly widened and he faced Jareth in shock. "_You_…"

"Irias…" Jareth warned.

"You bonded this girl!" Irias sputtered. "Against all sense or thought you bonded with a mortal."

"Actually, I am not certain about that," Jareth said carefully.

"Which part?" Irias asked, still gaping at him. "That you soulbonded with her, or that she's mortal? I verily doubt the former isn't so, and the latter is improbable at the least." Irias rested his head against the doorframe, still dumbfounded by his discovery.

Jareth smiled, happy to finally have the upper hand again. He clapped a hand on Irias's back. "That, my cousin, is what I need you to discover, because it seems she bonded to me as well." Irias groaned and bowed.

"As you wish, Your Majesty," Irias replied, and vanished without a sound. Jareth closed the door to his study and sprawled onto one of the luxurious chairs around his desk. Irias was an irritation to be sure, but his sense of discretion was impeccable. Until Jareth made his soulbond public knowledge, or if for that matter, Irias wouldn't breathe a word of what he knew to anyone. He settled firmly into his chair and summoned a book. This promised to be a long night.

*

Katrinne marveled at her changed features in the mirror, and ran a rough finger across her sun-toughened face. She pursed the lips of her now unfamiliar mouth and could not recognize herself at all, even in the familiar expression. Her remarkable change was complete, and she was the exact mirror of her serving maid Elleanna. She looked over her shoulder at the real Elleanna and sneered at the young woman's horrified expression.

"What do you think?" Katrinne asked in a mocking tone. She stepped away from the mirror and threw off her elaborate over-robe. "I would wager that you never thought to see yourself in such finery. How do you like it?"

Elleanna struggled in her bonds and screamed a muffled obscenity through her gag. Katrinne looked appraisingly at herself in the mirror and turned her head back and forth. "I think I must agree with you," Katrinne said. "This look really doesn't suit you. You are much too common."

She tugged the maid's dress over her head and removed all the accoutrements of her position, until Elleanna was left in only her shabby underdress. She also pulled her suddenly darker hair out of its elegant knot at her neck. No servant spent as much time preparing her hair as Katrinne did, and it would look incongruous with her assumed persona to wear her hair in such a complicated manner. Katrinne slowly dressed herself in Elleanna's clothes, wincing at the feel of the cheap fabric against her skin. For one so used to luxury, it was nearly unbearable, but she tried to ignore it.

Katrinne returned her eyes to the mirror and laughed. The outer transformation into Elleanna was done, and she doubted even Elleanna's husband would be able to notice the difference. She tucked the final part of her vengeance into the pocket of her starched apron and moved to Elleanna's side.

"We're almost finished, and then I won't bother you further. I hope you won't mind, but I'll need your help just a little longer. She pressed her hand to Elleanna's skull and whispered a single word to trigger her spell. The maid shrieked as Katrinne invaded her mind and ripped away facts, faces, places and everything that made Elleanna herself, then forged a primitive link to the girl. It was reminiscent of the soulbonds the fey used, but it was darker in nature and infinitely less permanent.

Katrinne spoke again, this time to test what her new voice would sound like, and straightened, satisfied with her spellwork. "You've been such a great help to me so far. I'll be sure to reward you accordingly." She left the room with an untouched breakfast tray in the cowed position Elleanna so often assumed around her. She greeted the other maids in the halls with a sheepish smile and casual words, and left the castle for Elleanna's home in the city, as Elleanna did every day.

She reached the small pathetic house in a few minutes, and arrived to hear a squalling infant. In the back of Katrinne's mind, she felt Elleanna desperately reach to comfort her daughter and fall to the barrier between their minds. Insidious glee rose to Katrinne's face as she looked down at the pathetic baby in the cradle, and she felt Elleanna's sudden terror at what she was about to do. The maid begged and pleaded, cajoled and bribed, and Katrinne maliciously ignored her. She picked the child up, and she quieted slightly in what she thought were her mother's arms.

"Hush, child," Katrinne said in a mockery of Elleanna's comforting sentiments. "Everything will be as it should in a moment." She took a breath to steel herself for a meeting with the man she had renounced as evil so many years ago. "I wish the goblins would come and take you away, right now!" she cried. Silence reigned in the cottage for a moment, and Katrinne felt the strong magic in the air, so very different from her own.

Before her, the Goblin King appeared, to lounge in the rocking chair Elleanna and her husband so often used to rock their daughter to sleep. Goblins scurried around her, and Katrinne visibly cringed. She affected a teary eyed gaze and clutched the whimpering infant to her body. "I didn't mean it!" she exclaimed at the Goblin King's bored expression. "I take it back!"

"What's said is said," he drawled as he got up from the chair to stroll around the room. She heard a screaming in her mind, and it was all Katrinne could do not to betray her glee. At her feet, a goblin clutched at her skirts, and Katrinne backed towards the wall.

"I won't let you take her," she warned. "I'll fight you."

"Oh, really?" A bit of the ennui on the Goblin King's face lifted. "I wonder if you will present as much a challenge as the last girl from this kingdom did." He looked her up and down, and Katrinne shivered; it was what Elleanna would have done. "Of course, you are not as stupid as to have wished the Prince away as his nursemaid did."

Katrinne's jaw dropped, and she loosened her grip on the child in her arms. Elleanna was similarly dumbfounded in her mind. She blinked at the Goblin King in shock and tried to form words that would not betray her identity. "That is not possible," she whispered finally. "The Prince is still among us. I saw him in the nursery not even a day ago."

The Goblin King waved a dismissive hand at her. Katrinne recognized the gesture as one she had used often enough, and she found she verily disliked having it used on her. "It was three years ago. The girl was surprisingly resourceful for a servant, and she was the first to best my Labyrinth. But I sincerely doubt you will." Katrinne's mind raced. Three years ago, Sarah had been her son's nursemaid. Rage boiled in her veins, and added to her list of reasons for craving Sarah's demise.

The babe in Katrinne's arms shifted suddenly, and she looked down into the grinning face of a small goblin. She jumped and dropped the creature to the ground. "What have you done to my child?" She channeled her anger at Sarah into her words, and the shrill dismay in her voice was utterly sincere.

"Nothing that won't happen eventually anyway," the Goblin King answered lightly. "May I take your stubborn anger to mean you wish to attempt the Labyrinth? Know that you will surely fail this task." Katrinne clenched her fists and dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands. _I will not fail the task I plan to do today. You mistake my purpose, Goblin King_, she thought murderously.

"I will chance the Labyrinth. Anything is worth the chance to see my child returned." Katrinne gauged his expression carefully. A thought had entered her mind at the last second, a contingency just in the case her plan today failed. "Surely if the Princess can solve the Labyrinth, I can do the same," she said boldly.

An intense expression settled onto the Goblin King's face, and Katrinne wondered if perhaps she had made a grave error. "What?" he whispered forcefully.

"Sarah made it through the Labyrinth, and if she conquered it, surely it cannot be too hard. She was rumored to be simpleminded, and though I didn't see it, surely the Queen," she enunciated bitterly, aware of how the servants viewed her, "would know. Unless she was lying, which wouldn't surprise me. She always did dislike the Princess."

The landscape changed abruptly, and Katrinne stumbled as the terrain changed beneath her. Apparently, her gamble had succeeded, and she noticed the foul look the Goblin King now wore. "You will have thirteen hours to reach the center of the Labyrinth," he said shortly. "Succeed, and you will have your child returned. Fail, as I know you will, and your darling daughter will become that goblin you held so dearly earlier. Happy hunting." He vanished with the light sound of a bubble popping, and Katrinne looked across the bleak scenery to the gates of the Labyrinth.

"Too easy," she said with a smirk, and began descending the hill. Now, she had to get to Sarah before the Goblin King did. The ease in which he'd swallowed her line had been astounding to the woman used to deception. The Goblin King had to be aware of Sarah's presence in his kingdom, but his bewildered look when she told him Sarah was the Princess of hers indicated how little he knew about the chit. If he disliked her as much as he must after she defeated his Labyrinth, he would be only too happy to deliver her right back into Katrinne's hands, and into a certain death. Of course, that would lack the drama of Katrinne's well thought out plans for today, but the end result would be the same. _Either way_, she shrugged as she reached the gates, _I get what I wanted. And I always get what I want_. She grinned, and entered the Labyrinth.

*

Jareth was still reeling from the servant's pronouncement when he reappeared in his throne room. He was tempted to disbelieve the woman's innocent statement, but he resisted the temptation. She had no reason to lie to him, and no way to know that she had just given him an oddly convenient answer to one of his many questions about the girl. He reflected over all his past encounters with Sarah, and this new piece of information fit the puzzle she'd presented to him. Her regal bearing, her stubborn defiance, the odd phrasing she used when she almost said something she didn't want to say… it added up to confirm the servant woman's words. Sarah was a princess.

And not just any princess, Jareth thought morosely as he lounged back into his throne. She was the child of his dear friend Willim and his first queen Linnaea. She had been the somber figure standing alone so long after Willim's funeral. She was that happy child he'd seen early in his friend's reign, before anything had gone wrong. She was the product of a golden era of peace, a symbol of the closeness of two kingdoms. And, Jareth ruminated, she wasn't supposed to exist.

Jareth remembered a time early in his time as Goblin King when Linnaea had come to him for aid, begging him for one of the children that were wished away. She was barren, she'd cried to him, incapable of giving Willim the only thing he didn't have. And though it pained him to do so, Jareth had turned her away, equally incapable of helping her. He had heard legends of what happened when the Goblin King tried to break the Labyrinth's rules, and none of them ended happily for any involved. There was a price to pay when dealing with the Labyrinth, and more often than not, the price was far too high.

Jareth slammed his fist on the arm of his throne. He had finally discovered a large piece of this unfathomable puzzle, and he didn't like what it meant at all. Linnaea had been desperate, but he didn't know which party had made the first move, the Lady Linnaea or his Labyrinth. And he was absolutely certain the Labyrinth was involved.

The Labyrinth had reawakened his bond to Sarah and given her control of it. The Labyrinth was somehow shielding her from his magic, and his ability to find her on his own was greatly impaired. And he speculated that the Labyrinth had made some kind of bargain with Linnaea, a child at the cost of her life. She had died too young, too quickly, for her death to be natural. Powerful forces were at work, and Jareth hated not knowing how or why. And unless he missed his guess, they weren't finished with Sarah.

He decided to give himself a break from such heavy thoughts by checking the status of his runner. The woman was stubbornly making good time, and the Labyrinth seemed oddly passive as she traversed its many traps. He gathered some amusement when she was sidetracked by the magical doors before the oubliette. She dug her fingers into her hair at the logic puzzle presented by the guards and shrieked out her frustration, before finally picking the door that didn't lead down to the oubliette. Jareth decided to check on his other visitor to the Labyrinth then, since the path she'd chosen was a circuitous route around the Fiery Forest, and an immensely boring one at that.

The baby that had been unceremoniously wished away earlier was sniffling in agitation, and he wondered whatever it was that bothered the baby so. He touched her and pulled away a numb hand from the tingle of magic that surrounded her. Jareth was reminded of three years earlier, when he'd discovered the taint of dark spellwork on the Prince Tobias, which he now knew was due to long-term exposure to such things. This touch of magic was recent, but much stronger than before, and Jareth worried about the state of things in Istrien if Katrinne's taint was spreading outside the castle walls. It was a highly discouraging line of thought, and he dispelled the haze of magic around the child as he had done before for little Toby.

Things were very quickly getting out of hand in that country, Jareth thought as he watched the babe quickly fall to sleep. He was beginning to wonder if he'd need to intervene before long, and the image of Sarah trying to fight off the magical corruption hardened his resolve. He summoned a book from his library and set to reading about the darker powers Katrinne might be harnessing. He would need a strong defense against such things if the idea blooming in his head came to fruition.

Jareth spent the next few hours in study, only checking in on the runner once, when she had the misfortune to run into an errant fiery. He appeared, sent the lone fiery back to its clutch and mocked the desperate mother. She'd only given him a resentful look, and he'd returned to his castle. At the rate she was going, she would make it to the castle a few moments before her time ran out. Another failed run. He was hardly surprised. Just as Jareth was about to check the runner's progress again, he felt the insistent tugging that was Sarah calling him into their bond, but he sensed something more serious than minor panic. She wasn't just distressed; she was in peril of actually dying. Without any hesitation, Jareth dove into the darkness.

*

Sarah was humming one of her mother's lullabies as she cheerfully shredded a few herbs from the Wiseman's garden into a bubbling pot of soup. She had thought to experiment with one of her favorite recipes today, and she wanted to get a head start on the broth in case she made a mistake. The aroma of fresh herbs and vegetables wafted up and made the entire kitchen smell wonderful. Sarah smiled and went to check the bread slowly baking in the heavy iron oven. Lady Dulcinea had visited earlier and provided Sarah with a recipe for a kind of bread she thought would do wonderfully with her soup, and by the looks of it, it was coming along splendidly.

It had been a week since Katrinne's scrying spell had so fantastically interrupted her idyllic existence, and two days since she had last dreamed of the Goblin King. That was all well and truly behind her, and Sarah was glad of it. She understood that her terror and dismay brought the Goblin King to her aid, and if she avoided trouble and such strong emotions, he wouldn't bother her. She had conversed with the Labyrinth the day before, and it assured her he lacked the power to call her to him, for the same reason that her renouncing him brought her back to herself. Sarah was much relieved by the knowledge, even if she didn't know why she was able to summon him in the first place.

That was only a minor curiosity now, though, and for the most part, Sarah was able to ignore the fact she was living in Ennevar, the Goblin Kingdom. Katrinne's scry had apparently come to naught, and there was still no evidence the Goblin King knew of her presence inside the Labyrinth. In spite of her rocky start, things were settling down, and Sarah was making a life for herself among the villagers. She knew not to get complacent, though, because whenever she did, disaster struck. Sarah checked the progress on the bread again and decided she had just enough time to get a bucket of water from the village well.

She left the cottage door open behind her and was halfway to the wall before she noticed the sobbing young woman leaning against it. Sarah dropped her bucket and rushed forward. The woman leaned her head up off her crossed arms and looked teary-eyed at Sarah. Dejection transformed into shock on her face. "Sarah!" she cried, her voice hitching near the end. "Your Highness!"

Sarah tried to place the woman's face and name. She remembered her being one of the chamber maids that replaced her when she was demoted to the lower kitchens. _Elleanna_. She was a new mother, and she was fiercely loyal to her husband. And she absolutely didn't belong here.

"Elleanna, what are you doing here?" Sarah asked cautiously. The woman's face crumbled, and fresh tears sprang to her eyes.

"I was so tired," she said, weary pain laced through her voice. "I was so tired and my little girl wouldn't stop crying and I couldn't do anything… I am so _sorry_." She closed her eyes and exhaled a shuddering breath. Sarah put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder.

"I know how you feel. When the Prince was in my care, I accidentally wished him away. I was never so sorry about anything in my life."

"But you got him back," Elleanna said, a half-crazed gleam in her eye. "You made it through the Labyrinth. I would do anything if you'd help me. Please?" Sarah sighed and dusted her hands on her apron.

"I can't say how much of the Labyrinth has stayed the same, but my friend Hoggle told me that this path you're on leads directly to the castle gates. Let me just get my bread out of the oven and I'll take you part-way. Having a companion makes the journey much less frightening." Sarah picked up her dropped bucket and drew water before returning to the cottage. Elleanna followed reluctantly.

Sarah put the bread on the heavy table to cool and stirred her soup, then pulled her apron off. Elleanna spotted the frayed lacings on the bodice of her dress and her expression lightened a bit. "Let me repay you for your kindness," she said, and pulled two much newer lacings from her pocket.

"That's not necessary," Sarah waved them away. "I have no need for anything so nice here."

"Nonsense," Elleanna said in the pushy manner servants tended to have around each other. _Interfering busybodies, the lot of them_, Sarah thought affectionately. "They were the Queen's, but the tiniest bit of wear made them not good enough, and she ordered me to throw them out. I'd thought to use them myself, but you need them and I want a way to thank you." Sarah shrugged. When she put it like that, it was almost rude to refuse. Sarah nodded finally, and unlaced her bodice. Her own laces were nearly in tatters, and she conceded to Elleanna's point. Besides, it couldn't hurt anything, could it?

Elleanna laced Sarah up with all the efficiency one could expect from a well-trained lady's maid, and made the laces good and tight. She even tied them off with a pretty bow, and Sarah smiled. "Thank you," Sarah said graciously, and started to draw a breath, but found she couldn't. A frown creased her brow, and she tried again with a similar effect. Elleanna stood before her with an appraising look on her face as Sarah fumbled at the tie of the laces.

"Not so thankful now, are you, Your Highness?" Elleanna said mockingly before dashing out the door and down the path. Sarah dropped to the floor and put a hand to her chest as her vision went hazy, and darkened to black. Her other hand raked the blackness in desperation, but still no relief came. _Oh God, I'm going to die_, Sarah thought as an unconquerable dizziness overtook her.

She put both hands to the ground and continued to choke on the stale air in her lungs. It was a horrible way to die, suffocation, and she hoped bleakly that death would come quickly and she wouldn't suffer much longer. Between vain attempts at gasping, she thought she heard someone calling her name, but she wrote it off as the lack of air making her hear things. Strong arms suddenly pulled her to her feet, and she was pulled back against a solid body.

"Forgive me, Sarah," the Goblin King whispered in her ear, and tugged his right glove off with his teeth. He pressed his bare palm against her chest, and sweet, blessed air rushed into her lungs. Sarah inhaled with reckless gasps and ignored the immodesty of his hand on her skin. She was too relieved to be alive to object. For a long while, the only thing that mattered to Sarah was the ragged rhythm of her breathing, and she closed her eyes to relish the sensation. However, she also became aware of the feel of the Goblin King nearly wrapped around her body, and she tried to pull away. Her lungs immediately tightened, and she retreated to the relative safety of the Goblin King's embrace.

"Sarah," he asked, "what happened?"

"I was attacked by one of the Queen's servants," she said slowly, as if afraid that any breath she wasted talking would be stolen from her. "I helped her and she set a spell on me." It was close enough to the truth, if far too vague.

"Hmm." Sarah felt the rumble of the syllable in her back, and she reflected that it wasn't an uncomfortable feeling. "I seem to recall you telling me that this queen wanted to kill you. I believe she's made her first attempt, Your Highness."

Sarah's head shot up, and her eyes widened in disbelief. She had taken every precaution, never mentioning her true status to her friends or the Labyrinth, half-certain the great maze would betray her confidences to its King. Apparently her paranoia had been well founded. "Who told you such a silly story?" Sarah asked haltingly, her breath seizing in her throat for a completely different reason.

"You did, just now," the Goblin King said. "At least, you confirmed it, Princess. When did you plan to reveal that little secret, my Lady?" Sarah inhaled sharply and rolled her eyes in annoyance at the Goblin King's amused tone. So they were back to playing this game again, were they? The terms were decidedly different this time, and the Goblin King had the huge advantage of magically sustaining her life in a profoundly indecent manner, but Sarah decided to join in the battle of words.

"Never," Sarah replied in a clipped voice. "And especially not to the likes of you, Your Majesty," she added in the most artificially sycophantic tone she could muster.

"Tut tut, Sarah," the Goblin King chided. "I must insist you call me Jareth, since we are on equal footing, after all." Sarah stopped a brief laugh from escaping her lungs. She could barely imagine a situation in which they could possibly be on _less_ equal footing then they were right now. This was becoming ridiculous, and Sarah told him so.

"Oh really? Any more ridiculous than a princess acting as a scullery maid? I fail to see the logic in that."

"And I fail to see the logic in your keeping your hand on… my person when you possess as much magic as you do." Sarah tried to pull away again, but the Goblin King wrapped his free arm much more firmly about her waist.

"Believe it or not, my dear," he hissed, "this is rather more difficult than you would think. You were attacked by a strong magic, and it's a wonder I have been able to sustain you this long. I would appreciate it if you did not struggle. This is draining enough without your attempts at sabotage." Behind her, Sarah felt the Goblin King shake his head, and she wondered what kind of expression he was wearing.

"Then it appears we are at an impasse," Sarah said. "I cannot afford to leave, and you can't afford to let me."

"And how is that, pray tell." She ignored the patronizing tone of his voice.

"Clearly, as a man of honor, you can't allow a fellow royal to die, especially when it's within your power to ensure otherwise."

"But you would owe me a great favor," the Goblin King said, and Sarah could hear the calculating smirk he wore in his voice.

"Only if you can find me," Sarah parried, enjoying this verbal sparring match. "And I don't recall giving you permission."

"You are forgetting," the Goblin King murmured in her ear, "that you are a known royal. I need only ask anyone in Istrien where to find you." Sarah stiffened. "And as your stepmother has already made one attempt to kill you, I doubt she would object overmuch if I were to take you away from that wretched place. I don't truly require your permission to make you mine, Sarah."

With his free hand, the Goblin King pulled the collar of her dress further off her left shoulder and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her skin. Sarah shuddered as his tongue swept teasingly over her shoulder, uncertain of how to react. She knew only that this had long ago crossed the border into Indecency, but the sensation was too exquisite for her to say anything. His mouth crept across her shoulder to the curve of her neck and he made love to the spot with his lips and tongue and teeth. Sarah leaned her head back and had her hand halfway up to grip the back of his head when she felt an uncomfortable tingling in her chest, right where the Goblin King's hand lay.

"Damn," he muttered and pulled away from her. Sarah realized the tingling had to be unused magic, since she was able to breathe on her own when his hand left her skin. Her skin… Sarah jumped in horror and reeled around to face the Goblin King. She hitched the shoulder of her dress back up to cover as much skin as she could and pressed her fingers to the still-sensitive spot on her neck. She had behaved herself like some wanton woman and she was sure she would never survive the humiliation. The Goblin King's amused look said it all, and Sarah flushed crimson.

"This should not have happened," Sarah stuttered.

"I don't recall you complaining at any point, my Lady." His smirk broadened into a full grin, and Sarah tried to avoid looking at his lips. She could still feel them on her skin, and she couldn't remain affronted with the memory drifting through her mind. "It seems I do have a small power over you still, Sarah."

The Goblin King's words roused Sarah from her embarrassment and set her temper blazing. "No you do not!" she yelled, and the darkness around her dissolved.

*

Jareth opened his eyes to see a quizzical Irias in front of him. "Is it always that way for you?" Irias asked.

"How so?" Jareth tilted his head and stifled a yawn. He'd worked a good deal of magic to keep Sarah alive, and it was more draining than he'd expected.

"You were so focused, yet you were not here at all. But somehow, I could sense her around you. She must be very beautiful."

Jareth nodded. "She is." They sat in silence for a moment, neither knowing how to go on, until Jareth remembered the reason Irias was there.

Irias lost the serious edge to his mood and his expression brightened. "I found out something most interesting about your little servant girl," he began, but Jareth waved away his excitement.

"She's a princess, yes, I know." Irias looked crestfallen as the best bit of his discoveries was immediately uncovered. "The runner told me." Irias stiffened and edged toward the door uneasily.

"About the runner… do you know how long you were with your Lady?"

Jareth frowned. Neither subject had anything to do with the other, but judging by the look on Irias's face, he wasn't about to receive any good news regarding either. "Half of an hour, I suspect," Jareth said.

Irias furrowed his brow and bit his lip as if he knew something that he didn't want to tell Jareth. "Please keep in mind that killing the messenger is extremely bad form," he prefaced. Jareth nodded, and he continued abruptly. "I have watched you here for four hours. You never appeared for the final challenge of the Labyrinth, and you forfeited the rights to the runner's child. She's been gone for nearly an hour now, and her child with her."

Jareth glared at the other fey, and Irias flinched under the weight of his look. "I had no choice! She was barely inside the gates when her time expired, but you didn't appear to finalize your victory. According to the rules set by your Labyrinth, I had to send her back."

"It is not what you did that angers me," Jareth said slowly. "It is that I was inside my own mind far longer than I had thought to be. The runner was very lucky, and I will not begrudge her that." Irias sighed in visible relief, but Jareth wasn't finished. "I still have business with you, though."

Irias returned to his bright demeanor and perched on Jareth's study desk. "You already know that your Sarah is a Princess, so that is the most exciting news gone, but I have other bits of information you might find valuable." Jareth nodded for him to continue. "The general rumors in the city indicate that Sarah is a dimwit, barely capable of walking on her own, except among the Horandi population. There is a great deal of support for her among her mother's people, which could be useful should she ever come into power. A few other rumors circulate that the recent death of her father has left her utterly distraught, and she has shut herself away. That is just in the city.

"Inside the castle, the servants say that she is brilliant, well-educated, and would make an excellent monarch. They were the best source of information I had, and a few of the gossips told me all about her fall from grace. The consensus is Katrinne didn't want a competing rival for her son, and most amusingly of all, that she resents Sarah's beauty and seeks to stifle it. I have not seen a likeness of the girl, so I wouldn't know, but I am tempted to trust it. Finally, the servants are saying that Katrinne has hidden the girl away, as she hasn't been seen by any of her fellows among the kitchen staff for nearly two weeks. They are afraid she has come to harm, but I could garner no more information on that regard."

"Very good, Irias. Your thoroughness is commendable. You may return home; I have all I require of your services." A thoughtful look crossed Jareth's face, and Irias leaned forward.

"May I assume you will ask the Court to return soon?"

"I will let you know after I visit Katrinne. If she refuses to surrender Sarah, the Court may not be willing to wait out the inevitable conflict. This could take months, Irias."

"With all due respect, Your Majesty, a few months is nothing to one who will live for a thousand years. They have waited longer for other monarchs to woo their chosen Queens."

Jareth cracked a smile. "Am I so transparent, Irias?"

"Absolutely. What shall I tell the Court?"

Jareth rested his chin on his knuckles and gave Irias an inscrutable look. "Nothing. Tell them nothing. Let them hear the rumors and decide for themselves what they wish to do about them. In the meanwhile, I have a visit to prepare for. I am sure you know your way out." Irias nodded and vanished from his perch. Jareth waited only long enough to straighten his attire before disappearing as well, leaving only the faintest hint of magic behind him.

*

Katrinne had wasted no time after she was returned to her kingdom with the squalling brat. She immediately left Elleanna's humble abode for the castle, eager to shed the servant's guise she still wore. Her task was complete, and she wished to resume her status as fairest in the land as quickly as possible.

No one looked twice at Katrinne as she entered the castle and rushed to her rooms, and she found Elleanna still bound and gagged as she'd been left thirteen hours before, at least, in the time that Katrinne could remember. Maybe only a few moments had passed here, but it was still far too long for Katrinne's sensibilities. She cast a powerful spell that forbade the servant from telling any of the events that had taken place, and removed Elleanna from her service. The girl was only too happy to comply and rush home to her child, still shocked that she had been party to the Princess's demise.

Katrinne dispelled the strong illusions bound around her body and dressed herself in her robes again, choosing the softest fabrics to soothe her delicate skin. Before she even had time to coif her hair, Katrinne looked into her magic mirror and simpered.

"Mirror, mirror, cast from sand, who is the fairest in the land?" she asked of the tired genii.

A brief defiance burned in the genii's eyes for a moment before her spoke. "My Lady Queen, while fair, 'tis true that snow white Sarah _still_ fairer is than you," he intoned. Katrinne had no time to rage at the mirror, as a panicked servant knocked frantically at her door.

"My Queen," she gasped and threw herself to Katrinne's feet.

"How dare you interrupt me in my chambers!" Katrinne yelled, but the servant cut her wrath short.

"My Queen, I apologize deeply for any inconvenience I may have caused you, but the _Goblin King_ is in the throne room, demanding to speak with you." Katrinne blanched at the thought of facing the other monarch for the second time that day, and ordered the servant to quickly dress her hair. In moments, it was as it had been that morning, and the servant girl was blessedly silent as she completed the task for the second time that day.

Katrinne swept dramatically into her throne room a few minutes later, and found the Goblin King sprawled indolently on her throne. She narrowed her eyes at him and refused to surrender any expression that might convey her annoyance.

"Ah, Queen Katrinne," he spoke in a voice that nearly smacked her with its false reverence. "Just the woman I have been wishing to see." Katrinne sat primly in one of the small receiving chairs before the throne and looked up at him as impassively as she could manage.

"And why might that be?" she asked.

The Goblin King swung up from the throne and walked around the room, studying the décor. He stopped before a painting of her late husband and turned to face her. "I have decided to finally take a bride."

Katrinne straightened in her chair and allowed the smallest of smiles upon her lips. She had eventually planned to expand her power into Ennevar by force if necessary, but this method was infinitely preferable. Her mouth nearly watered at the thought of tapping the Labyrinth's power directly, instead of having to slowly leech it away. It was a lovely fantasy. She would only have to arrange for the Goblin King to fall out of the picture, and it would be perfect. "I am flattered that you came to me," she said, and blushed prettily. "I would be honored."

The Goblin King raised an eyebrow at her. "Whatever are you talking about, you foolish woman? I never said I wanted you. Heavens no! I have come for Sarah."

Katrinne blinked in confusion. This was certainly unexpected. There must be some error. "I beg your pardon? What could you possibly want with Sarah?"

"It is my intention to make Sarah my Queen, so that she may rule by my side and share in the power of my Labyrinth. Is that in any way unclear?" Katrinne nearly flinched at the scorn in his voice, but she stood her ground.

"You could not possibly want that girl," Katrinne retorted. "She is a blithering idiot and a discredit to her house."

"Tut tut, Katrinne. One would almost think you were talking about yourself." He returned to his slow circle of the room and paused before a painting of the former queen Linnaea. "Let us be candid with one another, Katrinne. I am aware of the lies you propagate against your stepdaughter, just as I am aware that you have already made an attempt to kill her. It seems to me that it would suit both our purposes if you would relinquish the girl and have done with it."

"You know nothing of my purposes, Goblin King," Katrinne said coldly. "And I could not imagine a time when both our interests would coincide."

"Yet earlier you seemed so convinced I had come here to take you to wife, and you made no protests at the thought." The Goblin King paused in his pacing and returned to her throne. "While it is on my mind, where have you sequestered away my intended, hmm?"

"Sarah is unwell," Katrinne ground out. "She has been shut away, for her own protection."

He frowned and disappeared, appearing a moment later directly in front of Katrinne. "So you return to the war of etiquette. Your sad attempts to disguise your intentions are not lost on me, Katrinne. I have played this game longer than you have been alive, and you must know by now that I do not take such a challenge lightly."

Katrinne stared stonily up at him and said nothing. The Goblin King cocked his head and turned away with an exultant angle to his frame. "I have discovered something you don't wish me to know, I think," he said lightly. "Your ruse is up. The truth of the matter is you have no idea where Sarah may be. You can't find her, and that utterly infuriates you. After all, you can't kill the heir if you don't know where to find her."

"Unless I am mistaken," Katrinne hissed, "I can say the same to you. But you were wrong on one regard, Goblin King. I do know where she is, but she is inaccessible to me. You I am not so sure about, but if you do not already know where she is, you never will." She rose stiffly to her feet and gave him an abrupt nod. "Good day to you, Your Majesty. Now get out of my kingdom." The Goblin King nodded in return, and vanished.

This situation was rapidly spiraling out of her control, Katrinne reflected as she returned to her chambers. The Goblin King's interference greatly complicated her affairs, and she would have to act quickly to set the next phase of her plan in motion. Her first attempt on Sarah's life had failed, but she would make sure the second could not. Katrinne returned to her grimoire and read into the night. With the proper conjunction of spells, she could accomplish her task, but this would involve several months of preparation and manipulation to succeed. She finally retired for the night, unconcerned for once. The Goblin King had entered the game, but that was a minor obstacle. Katrinne had time. She was sure the same could not be said for Sarah.

*

Sarah opened her window to let the soothing breeze into her stifling bedroom. It was good to finally be alone, especially after the alarming happenings of today. Katrinne had finally used her tracking spell and Sarah had come far too close to death for her own comfort, and she would have crossed that threshold entirely were it not for Goblin King's assistance. Her mind took a much darker turn at the thought of him, and she pressed her fingertips to the darkening bruise on her neck.

According to Hoggle, he'd arrived back from the Labyrinth to find her almost still as death, but for the slight rise and fall of her chest. He'd been stumped as to what to do until Ludo returned and pointed out the different laces on her dress. Sir Didymus had rushed to her aid and cleanly dispatched the cursed laces, and she'd awoken with a sore chest and a headache.

Sarah could still remember Hoggle's relived look rapidly turn to puzzlement as he took a closer look at her. He'd said nothing, but Sarah had checked her reflection nonetheless, to assure herself nothing was amiss with her. She'd discovered the bruise and concluded it was the product of the Goblin King's overzealous ministrations. After assuring her friends she was fine, she retired to her room and swore roundly, becoming particularly creative with what she said about the Goblin King.

Sarah was almost tempted to launch into another diatribe then and there, but she could already hear Ludo snoring downstairs, and Hoggle was no longer pacing in the room across from hers. She leaned against her windowpane and rested her chin against her crossed arms. Violet tinged clouds floated lazily across the waning moon, and a slight breeze rustled through the trees. Sarah inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. Images of the Goblin King rushed through her head, and she jumped.

Sarah rose from her bed and paced lightly across her floor. If she couldn't banish him from her mind, she was never going to be able to sleep, but she was tired from all the excitement, and it couldn't be helped. She finally returned to her bed and let the memories wash over her. In spite of her situation earlier, she hadn't felt threatened at all. The Goblin King had held her secure in his arms, and she'd felt like nothing could harm her, except, perhaps, for the man's scathing wit. And she'd returned verbal barbs as quickly as he could lash them out.

Sarah realized she no longer feared the Goblin King. He irritated her, and he was constantly pushing the bounds of propriety with her, even after he was aware of her station, but she didn't fear him. The last thought she had was of the Goblin King telling her to call him Jareth, and she drifted off into mostly-pleasant dreams. That night, for the first time in a long time, Sarah had no nightmares.

*


	5. The Winter Maiden

**Fairest**  
A Fanfiction by Heist

*

**The Winter Maiden**

Three months passed, and the seasons changed. The trees turned, and the villagers collected the harvest. Sarah was amazed by all the colors the forest became as autumn spiraled into ascendance. In Istrien, the leaves darkened into brown, yellow, and red and withered away. In the Labyrinth, impossible shades of scarlet and plum appeared, and the leaves never fell. Instead, as the season drew to a close, the foliage changed again, this time to silver and a delicate crystalline blue. Sarah was delighted by the first frost, when the world outside looked a faerie story come to life.

Winter came to the Labyrinth, and Sarah had company during her days. Hoggle and Ludo were amazed that the magical transformation of the leaves was limited only to the Labyrinth, and Sarah found herself spending much of her days telling stories about the world outside the Labyrinth's bounds. As the days passed and the nights grew longer, Sarah's stories found a greater audience in the other villagers, and she began telling them the faerie stories her mother told her when she was young.

Each day, she would tidy the cottage and prepare a great meal, and each evening, the villagers would flock to the cottage she shared with Hoggle and Ludo, bringing a dish to share and listening ears. Often, Sarah learned that what she had always presumed to be fanciful tales of the faerie realms turned out to have a basis in fact, and she was always delighted when the villagers told her the stories behind her stories.

On this chilly night late in the year, Sarah told one story that had always upset and confused her, in the hopes that the folk of the Labyrinth would clarify it for her. She described the plight of a maiden with a wicked stepmother that expected far too much of her, and the trials she was forced to undertake. Sarah told how the maiden first had to sort and separate a room full of feathers, and how an aged crone had come to her aid. When the task was complete, the stepmother charged the girl to empty a lake only with a spoon full of holes. Again, the crone came to her aid. Finally, the stepmother bid her build a castle, and the crone created a magnificent edifice of stone for the girl, and told her to keep if for herself if she wished.

When the stepmother came to inspect the castle, she suffered an accident in the deepest cellar, and the castle belonged fully to the maiden. Some time later, she met a handsome young man and fell immediately in love with him, and he with her. All that remained to bar their happy way was the man's father's consent, and so he told the maiden to wait beneath a lime tree for his return. When he did not come back as soon as he'd told her to expect, the maiden went out in search for him. She traveled far and wide, finally coming to a distant village in the midst of wedding preparations.

The maiden asked who was to be wed, and saw that it was her own intended groom. She wept in misery, but as he rode past, he saw her and entirely forgot his new bride just as he had forgotten the first. They returned to her home in the castle and were married and by all accounts lived happily ever after.

Sarah finished her story to a great applause, but her confusion only grew. "I don't understand why that particular story is so special," she said. "The first part I can identify with, but I don't understand why she would accept her groom back after his inconstancy."

"There's much of this story you don't know then," the Wiseman said from the back. "This story is special to us, because it chronicles the first monarchs of the Labyrinth." The assembly turned toward the ancient figure, and Sarah prepared to hear the story behind the story, just as she'd hoped to when she began this evening.

"The story you told, young lady, is for the most part accurate, but it leaves out much as well. The maiden in the story was named Thelliashe, which means 'Winter Maiden' in the tongue of the fey people."

"The story didn't say anything about that," Sarah mused aloud.

The Wiseman chuckled, and his hat perked up. "They are called faerie stories for a reason, you know," the living hat admonished.

"Will you please be quiet!" the Wiseman scolded his hat before looking at Sarah. "Many of the tales you know as fantastical are histories of the fey kind. Thelliashe was of the fey people, but she was a true winter maiden: her magic slumbered, and that is why she could not accomplish the many tasks set on her through her own power."

"Did her powers ever wake?" one of the villagers called out.

"Oh yes," the Wiseman answered. "But that came later. Thelliashe's first trial was to sort the feathers, but that isn't meant to be taken literally. Most likely, she had been assigned to make a feather mantle from the molting feathers of the local fey people in their bird forms. Such a thing would enable the wearer to become a winged creature without native transformative magic, but it could not have a single feather from a real bird in its fibers. Those rare fey with dormant powers would be unable to discern a difference, hence the difficulty of the undertaking."

"And the second task?" Sarah asked. "What of that?"

"That one surely was literal," said the Wiseman. "It would bring no greater pleasure to a vindictive fey like Thelliashe's stepmother than to assign a task to be physically fulfilled when it could be accomplished far more easily with magic. But it is the third task that interests all of us, because the castle the crone built in one day still stands inside the Labyrinth's walls." Murmurs of excitement and admiration filled the room and Sarah nodded along with them.

"And as for the events that took place after the stepmother's death, I can understand why young Sarah would be confused," the Wiseman continued. "To one with no understanding of fey culture, the happenings would seem most unreasonable."

"Unreasonable, ha!" the hat muttered. "You would know, wouldn't you?"

The Wiseman rolled his eyes at his hats antics and went on. "Thelliashe's suitor was also of the fey, but he was not as fickle as the story tells, or at least, not intentionally. When they first met, he and Thelliashe formed a soulbond, the deepest link of affection and trust that can exist between two of the fey."

"Then why would he leave her?" Sarah asked. This was the part that intrigued her.

"This man, who's name has unfortunately been lost to time, did have to inform his father of his intentions. He left Thelliashe under that tree fully intending to return, but he was waylaid by a sorceress intent on capturing him for her daughter. With the correct spells, one can blind a soulbond, and the witch did so.

"Thelliashe waited faithfully beneath the tree, a peach tree in actuality, and dreamed of him while she was gone. Even today, the Labyrinth's peach trees are to be avoided, unless you wish to discover your true love in a powerful dream of binding. She waited for him until she could feel him no longer, and she set out to find him through their bond. When Thelliashe did discover her love, her proximity to him broke the spell he'd been under, and they returned to the fledgling Labyrinth to rule as its first Lord and Lady."

Sarah furrowed her brow. "I still don't understand. Why did Thelliashe's nearness to her suitor break the enchantment?"

"It's one of the more useful side effects of a soulbond," the Wiseman explained. "A soulbond runs far deeper than any spell could affect, and physical proximity between two such soulbonded negates any ill enchantments on either. Only death can separate a soulbonded pair, and never for long. As long as one lives, the other may hang on by the smallest thread, until he or she succumbs to death or survives. If one dies, so does the other. It is tragic, but it is fact." A somber tone settled over the room, until Ludo spoke.

"What happen to old woman?" Ludo asked, his booming voice startling a few villagers sitting around him.

"She never left," the Wiseman said. "She was no crone at all, but a rather powerful elemental spirit. She bound herself into the earth around the castle she built and became the Labyrinth."

"Where do the goblins come in?" Sarah asked, curious about the final piece of the missing puzzle.

"Ah, I was wondering when you would think of that," the Wiseman replied. "Originally, the Labyrinth existed as a safe haven for any child that was mistreated or unwanted. The maze existed to keep any that might wish the child harm out, or to provide a challenge to one who wished a child away by accident and wanted to recover the babe. Until you, none had succeeded in that, and the Labyrinth's purpose was fulfilled.

"However, the wicked stepmother's death was not the end of her spite. Her angry spirit lingered on after her death, and she tainted the aegis of protection inside the Labyrinth to change any child that wasn't regained into a goblin, in the hopes that Thelliashe and her husband would abandon the castle to her specter. As we are all inside the Labyrinth today, and Thelliashe's many times great-grandson still lives in the castle, you may guess as to how successful the stepmother's gamble was."

The Wiseman looked expectantly at Sarah. "Does that answer your question, young lady?" Sarah nodded silently, and the evening passed on as every one that had preceded it. But somehow, on this evening, something in the atmosphere had changed, and Sarah was at a complete loss as to discern what that something was.

The evening wound to a close, and Sarah was bidding farewell to her guests when the Wiseman singled her out again. "Should you have any further questions regarding anything," he told her solemnly, "do not hesitate to ask them." It was an alarmingly serious moment, which was thankfully interrupted when the hat sneered at the Wiseman's words. He lectured his hat on proper etiquette as he left the cottage, and Sarah watched him trudge across the small village to his own home in something like bemusement. It had been an odd moment, to be sure, but nothing so utterly out of her ordinary experience as to startle her.

In that frame of mind, Sarah retired, and had one of the greatest shocks of her life the next day when she woke up. She was wakened by the early morning sun, and her resentment for the intrusive light turned to astonished confusion when her window disappeared entirely. Smooth wall appeared where a leaded glass pane had been. When she panicked at the abrupt all-consuming darkness, the raftered ceiling and thatched roof above her head also disappeared, leaving cold, clear sunlight streaming down into her bedroom.

Sarah heard Hoggle's bellow of surprise in the other room, and she threw on a dressing gown and slippers over her sleeping shift. Ludo summoned the Wiseman to remedy the situation, and Sarah tried to continue on with her normal daily routine as if nothing had happened. The strange occurrences persisted as the day wore on, though, and Sarah found that as she grew increasingly exasperated, the happenings grew increasingly bizarre. As she was setting out the ingredients to prepare her usual loaves of bread, the table itself became a large table-shaped loaf of the bread she'd been about to prepare. Her cooking utensils vanished and reappeared, and the fire in the hearth became a cheerful violet color. The Wiseman was called again, and he returned to the house that had so fallen into disarray, a flustered Sarah in the middle of it all.

"Well, my dear girl," he said as he surveyed the mess, "it seems you have finally come into your own."

"What do you mean by that?" Sarah asked, brandishing a wooden spoon at the Wiseman. The spoon in her hand caught purple fire, and crumbled into ash before Sarah could drop it. The Wiseman's hat squawked in amusement, but wisely remained silent, lest anything unusual befall it.

"It is no coincidence that you told the story of Thelliashe last night. I have long suspected that you, like Thelliashe, were a winter maiden, and all this strangeness that is happening around you confirms it. The Labyrinth has a great fondness for you, and I very much doubt it is because you defeated it. Most likely, your fey magic attracts it."

"But my parents were human!" Sarah protested, and a bright pink, floral scented smoke exploded out of the violet flames on the hearth. "I am no more one of the faerie people from the stories than you are human. It isn't possible."

"You wear a human shell, yes, my girl, but I was here when His Majesty Jareth came into his powers, and this display here bears a remarkable resemblance to the havoc he loosed on the castle. Many less-endearing parts of the Labyrinth are side effects of its fey rulers learning to control their magic. I am sure you have been to the Bog of Stench before, yes? That was the result of a temper tantrum several thousand years ago that went horribly awry."

Sarah looked at the Wiseman in dismay. "What are you saying?"

"Whatever the source, some powerful being changed you before you were born. I would even wager one of your parents struck a deal with the Labyrinth itself, unknowing of the possible consequences. Did one of your parents die very young?"

"My mother," Sarah said numbly, and collapsed into a waiting chair that hadn't existed a moment before.

The Wiseman nodded. "Ah, then that settles it. Regardless of what your parents were, you are fey. And by the looks of this mess, a rather powerful one." The Wiseman clapped his hands twice, and everything in the cottage was restored to normal. He opened the door and a draft of winter air blew through the house. "Take your cloak up and come with me. You have magic, and you ought to learn how to use it properly before you do any damage."

Sarah wrapped the thick woolen mantle the guardsman had given her so long ago around her shoulders and followed the Wiseman to his cottage. She had been there before, but she had never entered the room he brought her to now. She was awestruck by the sheer volumes of books everywhere; tall shelves full of heavy tomes covered the walls, and where the shelves were too full, piles of thick, leather-bound books lay piled in stacks on the floor and tables. Sarah's fingers itched to open the books and unlock the knowledge within each precious cover.

"These are all the books I possess on sorcery and spellcraft," the Wiseman said. "To wield your gift without causing damage, you must first understand it, and endeavor to learn as much as possible about it."

Sarah spent the day poring over the books in a happy wonder, and by the end of the week, she had mastered several simple spells with a fierce determination. She no longer suffered any magical accidents, and the Wiseman was so pleased by her progress that he gave her leave to attempt a few of the harder configurations of magic. Sarah spent her days under the Wiseman's instruction, but her nights she devoted to further magical study with the Labyrinth itself. It whispered directions into her ear, helpful hints and minor corrections that greatly aided her attempts.

Life resumed as usual for the most part, with a small piece of Sarah's day devoted to magic as well as the sundry chores she'd taken up when she came to live in the Labyrinth. She honed her spellcasting in small ways, practicing her skills through the homely arts and assisting with her chores. As she grew more adept at the use of magic, Sarah found her free time increased greatly, and she took up daydreaming again, something she'd abandoned after her mother died.

Sarah was steeped in a complicated reverie one very cold afternoon when Hoggle staggered, grumbling, in from the snow. He plunked himself down in front of the hearth with a shiver and hung his wet outer clothes by the fire to dry. "Damned Goblin King," he muttered. "Never gives us any moment rest."

"What's wrong, Hoggle?" Sarah asked, trying not to look too interested at the mention of the Goblin King. She'd had no contact with him for the past three months, and she still worried off and on that he'd gone to her home kingdom to find her. It was an uncomfortable thought.

"'E's gone off and brought back the royal Court an' all," Hoggle said angrily. "'S a sure sign he's up to somethin'. And the stupid Court just up an' wanders where-all it pleases, nevermind that rat Jareth told 'em not to go into the Labyrinth. I's been chasing idiots outta the maze all damned day, 'cause they ain't got better sense 'n to stay out." He wriggled his toes in front of the fire and huffed.

Sarah got up from her sympathetic perch at a knocking on the door and answered to find the Wiseman on her doorstep. He came in and shook a heavy fall of snowflakes off onto the entry rug. His hat glared miserably at Sarah and sneezed without a single snide remark. She offered the frozen Wiseman something warm to drink, but he begged off and pulled a new looking book from his cloak.

"I just received this from His Majesty as thanks for herding a part of his errant court back to the castle. He thought I might be interested in borrowing it for a while, and I immediately thought of you." Sarah flipped through a few pages in amazement. It was an entire book of spells from the faerie stories she so loved.

"Thank you!" Sarah gasped. "It's lovely. I would tell you to thank the King, but…"

The Wiseman nodded with a pleased expression on his craggy face. "I understand, young lady. You wouldn't wish that he know of your presence here. But I'm quite sure there are a few spells in that book you might be able to use soon." He tipped a heavy hand to the brim of his annoyed-looking hat. "I must be off, and ensure no additional members of the Court have wandered where they should not."

"Wait," Sarah called as he cracked the door to leave. "First Hoggle, and now you have mentioned that the Court has returned. Is there any particular reason? I certainly don't remember there being a royal court in the Goblin Kingdom before." The Wiseman shut the door again and sighed.

"It was a good while before your birth when the Court left here. They only dwell in the kingdom when there is a Queen in residence, and there hasn't been since the former king died, but rumor says that His Majesty is courting some foreign princess with the intent to marry her." Sarah's heart skipped a beat, and she assured herself it was out of panic rather than jealousy. Surely it was her, because she couldn't think of any other princesses of remotely marriageable age. And how could she be jealous anyway, even if it was somebody else? She bore no affection for the Goblin King, regardless of how he acted around her. The Wiseman noted her sudden silence and continued speaking.

"The Court returned early, in an effort to encourage him to quicken the proceedings. I am sure the King's promise to host an extravagant Midwinter Revel has absolutely nothing to do with things at all," the Wiseman said with a grin. Sarah relaxed slightly and sighed in relief. The Wiseman left at last, and Sarah looked back down at the book in her hand. She let it fall open at a random page, and read the spell written therein. She glanced out the corner of her eye at a still cranky Hoggle and took the book up to her room. She had planning to do.

*

Jareth tapped his fingers against the arm of his throne as he looked out at the glittering throng of his court. After thirty years, the Royal Court had returned to the Goblin Kingdom, and from all the glamour and glitter the nobles were throwing around, they seemed to be making up for lost time. Jareth yawned at their antics and tried to focus on several missives he'd neglected. The courtiers were still trickling back, a week after the majority had flooded through the castle gates, and Jareth suddenly had their upkeep and maintenance to worry about. It wasn't unlike having a few hundred very expensive, demanding and argumentative pets, Jareth thought in aggravation.

Irias popped into being next to him, and he gave his kinsman a look of appropriately bored exasperation. The darker fey surveyed the scene before him and gave a low whistle. "I knew the Court would return, but I had no idea they would come back in such force. I might have been more judicious in who I told the rumors to if I knew this was going to happen."

Jareth threw him a dark look. "I thought I told you not to tell anyone." A threatening tone colored his voice, but Irias wasn't intimidated.

"You told me only to say nothing to the Court. I didn't. I told the gossip mongers of the other kingdoms, and they told your court. You can hardly pin this on me."

"Like hell I can't," Jareth growled. "This is ridiculous."

Irias shrugged. "On the topic of ridiculous things, I heard that your visit to Katrinne didn't proceed as you had planned. Would you care to elaborate so I might not propagate any false information?"

"Katrinne doesn't have Sarah, nor does she have access to her. I am quite sure she knows where the girl is, but she refused to tell me. My progress in finding her has come to a halt, again." His expression betrayed nothing, but Irias detected the weariness and dejection Jareth tried to hide.

"It cannot be so bad as all that," Irias said. "If she is a fey woman as you believe her to be, you have all the time in the world to find her again. She isn't likely to die as quickly as her human antecedents."

"I am hardly comforted." Jareth paged through the letters and tossed them aside again. None of them were important anyway.

Irias rested his chin against his fist pensively and watched the courtiers with his liege. "She cannot stay in hiding forever. Who knows, maybe this revel will draw her out?"

"I doubt it," Jareth muttered. "She would have to physically traverse the Labyrinth to get here, and leave in the same way. I cannot imagine Sarah making that journey again."

The jovial expression Irias wore cracked for a moment, and Jareth detected pity in his cousin's face. "Do not lose hope, Your Majesty. You will find her again. I promise."

"You never keep your promises, Irias. I grow weary of your lies." He gestured dismissively, and Irias stepped away.

"I will return in time for the gala, Your Majesty. I suspect you will desire company that doesn't play sycophant to your whims." He bowed stiffly and vanished from Jareth's sight again.

Jareth sighed and ran a hand over his face. His foul mood showed no sign of improving itself on this night, so he retreated to his private chambers. His courtiers could carry on until morning, for all he cared, as long as they didn't disturb him. Midwinter was in three days, and he had to be in at least a sporting mood by then to cope with the certain mess. Midwinter was one of the more important holidays to his people, and one of the biggest days for announcing impending nuptials among the fey. He had no doubt there would be several engagements announced, and he would have to divert his Court's attention somehow when he was not among that happy number.

He fell into bed, physically exhausted, but kept awake by the flurry of his thoughts. Jareth stared at the canopy of his bed for some time before finally relenting and casting a weak spell to grant him rest. The spell didn't last long, though, as Jareth was haunted by visions of Sarah. She danced laughingly around him, always just outside his reach. He woke early in the morning, too tormented to attempt sleep again. The barest hints of dawn were just coloring the horizon, and he knew there would be no opportunity to rest today. Jareth rose for the day with Sarah's clear voice still ringing in his ears, and he cursed his ancestors for the legacy of the soulbond. It was to be a difficult day.

*

Sarah looked in the mirror and gasped at the changes her petty magic had wrought. The glamour spell in the book was the same that had been used by the Cinder Girl of the stories, but it had also mentioned that the spell created a most individualized appearance. Sarah nearly laughed at the appropriateness of her new guise, a delicate winter maiden. The gown itself was a frothy masterpiece in silk, organza and ribbon, a crystalline wonder in shades of white, pale blue and silver. The hem swirled at her every slightest movement and Sarah was reminded of the sweeping gusts of snow that trailed through the air on the windiest of winter days. Her already pale skin took on a silver-kissed glimmer, except where a pale shimmering halo of blue blushed against her hairline. She was remarkably free of jeweled adornment, save for a glittering diadem to denote her rank and a fan-shaped wedge of crystal icicles that pulled her hair into a long midnight cascade down her back. She looked every inch the princess she was by birth and the otherworldly magician she'd become in the Labyrinth.

The only incongruent part to her cool disguise was the crimson stain of her lips. They stood out in stark contrast to the rest of her, and drew attention to her face, which was the last thing she wanted to happen. With another word and a gesture, her lips too frosted over with a patina of silver, and she completed her transformation. The effect was striking, but not particularly eye-catching, especially among the colorful opulence she planned to blend into this night. Sarah watched her reflection as she slowly turned in a circle. The dress danced around her, and some pale ribbons wrapped around her wrists fluttered in her wake. She stopped for a final appraisal and nodded.

Only one thing remained, and she hoped it went well, or all her effort would be for naught. "Labyrinth?" she whispered.

"_Yes, Sarah?"_

"I need you to make me a promise."

"_What sort of promise?"_ The neutral voice of the Labyrinth bore a hint of curiosity, and Sarah hoped it wouldn't be too offended.

"I need you to promise, regardless of what happens, that you won't tell the King where I am." She held her breath for the Labyrinth to reply.

"_All right. I promise not to tell the King where you are."_ Sarah exhaled in relief, until she sensed something wasn't right. The Labyrinth had given in far too easily. Then it hit her.

"No. I need you to promise not to tell the Goblin King where I am. And by the Goblin King I mean the current one." She gathered her courage before continuing. "I need you to not tell Jareth anything about me. At all." She felt the Labyrinth's crushed disappointment and reticence, and sighed. "I mean it. Please?"

She felt something that in her mind sounded like a huge defeated sigh. _"Very well. I swear I will not disclose your location to Jareth, nor will I tell him anything that would allow him to figure it out on his own."_

"Ever," Sarah added.

"_Ever."_ Sarah nodded in satisfaction and focused on the next phase of her plan.

This was the tricky part. Sarah closed her eyes and focused on what she knew of the castle. It was the most ambitious bit of magic she'd learned thus far, and had the greatest potential to go wrong, but Sarah was confident in her abilities. She inhaled deeply, and disappeared from her room. Sarah felt the world around her change, and she exhaled slowly before opening her eyes. She had discreetly reappeared behind a corner curtain in a crowded ballroom. Sarah could not help but notice the resemblance of this tableau to the peach-dream masquerade ball. Elegant and beautiful people of all kinds and colors mingled and danced throughout the room, all in costume. She couldn't help but feel grateful the spell she'd cast had also created a costume for her, and not merely a ball gown. Sarah inhaled again to steady her nerves and donned a dreamy smile, then swept into the crowd.

*

Irias was bored out of his mind. The revel was a smashing success on all accounts, and he heard nothing but praise for the Goblin King's excellent taste and planning. It was enough to make him sick. He flitted through the crowd, picking up tidbits and snippets of conversation as he passed, but it was all so shallow that he got no enjoyment of it at all. Jareth's courtiers had to by the most empty-headed beings in their world, he reflected as he looked over at the King. Jareth was pouting. It wasn't immediately visible, and Irias doubted a single member of the Court would notice, but the Goblin King was definitely in a petulant mood. Irias rolled his eyes and scanned the room for a distraction. He found one.

Irias could not believe his eyes. She was exquisite, in a heartbreaking way. In this room of obscene color and noise, she was an elegant island of repose. The flow of time seemed to break around her, and Irias had to wonder if she was truly there at all, or a very carefully crafted illusion. She was one of the loveliest creatures Irias had ever seen, and that was saying something, considering he'd lived among the most beautiful of the fey for centuries. But it was not just her exterior beauty that attracted his attention. She radiated light, pure and shining and clean, from the depths of her soul. Irias had never seen her before, but he recognized her all the same. When he had come upon Jareth communing with his soulbonded, he had seen this overwhelming brightness clinging to the Goblin King's form like a spectral lover. Beyond all shadow of a doubt, this woman was Sarah, Jareth's intended Queen.

Irias pushed through the jostling crowd to get to her. Even if she belonged to another, he wanted to experience a moment of her serenity and bask in her grace. Her eyes were scanning the room, no doubt for the Goblin King, when Irias approached her. She jumped slightly when he tapped her on the shoulder, and turned her impossible eyes toward him. He took her hand with a bow and brushed his lips across her knuckles in a courtly gesture.

"My Lady," and he imbued his words with all the awe and respect that he could feel, "would you care to dance?" She nodded, and he swung her out into the dancing.

"Might I ask your name?" she asked. "It seems improper to dance with a complete stranger."

Irias drew together all the regal grace he'd picked up in his time as a member of the fey courts. "I am Irias Ariteeallon Akartha-Ytega, lately of Sembersedge and distant cousin to His Majesty." She nodded in response, but froze slightly at the mention of the Goblin King. Irias knew they were not on the best of terms, but her visible reservation was unsettling. He attempted to diffuse her anxiety. "And you, my Lady? You know my name, but I have not received the gift of yours."

For half a moment, she charmingly worried at her bottom lip and smiled. Her soul lit up, and Irias thought for a moment he might go blind. "You may call me Thelliashe for the while," she said. _Thelliashe. Winter Maiden. And the first Queen of the Labyrinth._ Irias thought it suited her, especially given the costume she wore.

"Thelliashe it is then." They twirled around the edge of the ballroom, and Irias caught the eyes of his King. "It's her," he mouthed, with a meaningful look in his eyes. Jareth nodded slowly, not really understanding the message. Irias spun the woman in his arms, and saw Jareth's sudden comprehension light up his face.

"Is something wrong?" Sarah asked, looking up at him. Irias schooled the excitement in his face away.

"No, not at all. I just noticed an old friend." Suspicion lingered in her cool eyes, and Irias diverted the conversation as they drifted deeper into the number of dancers. "I was just wondering where such a lovely woman as you must have come from. I have not seen anyone with a resemblance to you in Sembersedge, or even greater Angelore. You must have come a long way if you are not of either place." He wondered how she would answer this. Surely it would be an inventive lie.

"I have ancestors in Horandil," she answered smoothly. "But my family mostly kept to itself in its holdings on Ennevar's western edges." Irias raised his brows in surprise. It was a clever answer, misleading, but every bit of it was true. If he hadn't known what he did about her, he would have believed her to belong to a small isolated family.

"Is that so, Princess?" Even Irias was surprised by the Goblin King's voice behind them. He released the girl and respectfully backed away as Jareth took her into his arms. A few of the dancing couples around them began to take notice, and Irias couldn't wait to hear what they thought of this new development.

The Goblin King pulled Sarah into the music, and unwillingly, she followed. Irias saw her avoid Jareth's gaze, and he watched as they traded words he would have given anything to hear. Finally, Jareth said something that attracted her attention, and she looked up at him. A look full of need and passion and desperation passed between them, and Irias decided he hadn't needed to worry. The room grew quiet, and Irias saw the Court had finally noticed what was so very obvious to him. A woman in red commented it was a wonder to her they did not throw each other to the ground. Irias was forced to agree, then Jareth made his move, and the Court was left without any doubts whatsoever.

*

When the Goblin King touched her for the first time in three years, Sarah nearly died from the shock. She remembered what the Wiseman had said about the soulbonded, and how physical proximity was a very powerful thing. She wondered angrily what he hadn't said, as her skin sang in the Goblin King's presence. She had thought the experience in their minds to be intense, but that was a pale shadow in comparison to this exquisite torture. Sarah inhaled sharply, and felt the Goblin King quake with repressed amusement.

"I fail to see the source of your amusement, Your Majesty," she said with as much fury in her voice as she could summon up.

The Goblin King bent his head to her ear. "Fight it all you want, but I know better. You want me," he whispered. His breath tickled her neck, and Sarah's heart raced. She clenched her eyes shut, refusing to look at him.

"I couldn't think of anything further from the truth," Sarah snapped. "You are delusional."

"You didn't mind the last time I touched you," he said with a laugh.

"The last time you touched me, you left a hideous bruise that lasted for a week. My friends couldn't look at me without disapproval for a month. You have ruined what good reputation I have left."

"Speaking of your reputation," the Goblin King drawled, "I spoke with your stepmother recently." Sarah's eyes shot open and she looked up at the Goblin King. "In fact, she seemed quite…" He trailed off as he gazed into her eyes. When he spoke again, his voice was hoarse. "By all the gods in the heavens, you are beautiful."

Sarah just looked desperately up at him, praying that she wasn't betraying anything she didn't want him to know. But, she thought as she drowned in his expression of thwarted desire, she doubted he would notice if she was revealing anything. Hunger and need warred in his mismatched eyes, and Sarah barely cared if either won. She was as lost to her own need as he was, and she swallowed hard.

The Goblin King caught half a breath, and dipped his head to hers, meeting her mouth with his own. Sarah half-wanted to object, in some distant part of her mind, but thoughts became irrelevant and the feeling of his sure mouth on hers erased any protests she might have made. His tongue swept devastatingly over hers, and his lips felt so good on her own it hurt. She felt like he was drinking in her soul, but he was giving her a piece of his in return. Her entire body suffused with warmth, and she felt a deeper fire coil low in her belly.

Sarah's eyes opened again and she jerked away from the Goblin King. His hooded eyes smoldered with passion, and she nearly found herself returning her mouth to his. She shook herself and tried to calm her reckless breathing. She tried to free herself further from the Goblin King's grasp, but his hands still clasped around hers, and showed no sign of letting go.

The Goblin King smirked down at her as she looked around for outlets of escape and found none. "So, do you still believe you don't want me?" Sarah jerked her left hand free and reached up to smack him, but he intercepted her hand inches from his face. A sparkle from the movement of her hand caught her eye, and she turned her wrist enough to see a beautiful ring on her finger. A gleaming opal was set in the center of a silver band, framed in pale emeralds. It was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship that she absolutely didn't want to see there. She couldn't even remember him slipping it on her finger, damn the man.

The Goblin King noted her interest. "Something for you to think on, my lovely," he murmured, and pressed a light kiss to the palm of her hand. Somewhere, a clock began tolling, and Sarah thought about the time. She had left the cottage around ten, after others had gone to sleep, and she'd been here for at least two hours, which meant the clock was moments away from striking thirteen. Midnight. And that meant the end of her spell. Sarah pulled away from the laughing Goblin King and ran into the stilled crowd. She concentrated hard on the spell to bring her back to the cottage, and with a blink, she was gone.

She reappeared back in her room not a moment to soon. All her carefully crafted magic fell away, and she was once again dressed as a common maiden. She fell into her bed fully dressed, though she wasn't even a bit tired. Her heart was still racing from her sudden exit, and that breath-stopping kiss. Her body still quietly cried out for the Goblin King's touch. She lifted her hand to her face and looked at the ring shining innocently in the moonlight. "Something for you to think on," he'd said. Sarah decided she definitely didn't want to think on the repercussions of this night, and she tugged on the ring. It refused to be removed, and stubbornly stuck to her finger as if spelled there. In all likelihood, it had been, and Sarah quietly cursed the man for his foresight. To be sure, she tried a few removal spells she had learned, but none of them worked.

She finally gave up and settled into her bed. All the magic she had performed in the last few hours had taken a mental toll, if not a physical one, and she knew she needed rest. Sarah yanked her apron off and threw it in a darkened corner and fiddled with the ring some more. This really was a hideous inconvenience, she reflected, especially given where she was living. Hoggle, with his penchant for jewels, would notice the rather impressive ring immediately, and he would be suspicious. And it was suspicious, that she couldn't tell who had given her the ring, and that she couldn't take it off. It took a lot of magic to make something spell impervious, and there weren't many that had the necessary power to do so.

Sarah sighed and tried to calm her reckless thoughts. If she couldn't remove the ring, she would have to hide it, and hope that no one with enough power to see through her amateur spell came near her. She called a spell of hiding to her mind, but her magic collapsed under the command. As she'd thought, Sarah had used far too much magic this night, and according to her reserves of power, she wasn't going to cast anything else for a while. There was nothing to be done but rest and recover her strength.

Sarah rolled to her side and pulled her blankets up from around her feet. There was no use in trying anything else tonight but sleep. Her body applauded the idea, but some mischievous voice in the back of her mind suggested it was only too bad she would be sleeping alone. Sarah rolled her eyes and snuggled into her pillow. Sleep would provide a refuge from all thoughts of the Goblin King, especially after a charm she'd cast on her room to prevent all dreams. It wasn't as comforting a thought as Sarah would have hoped, and she frowned as she drifted off into sleep. Clearly, she was spending too much time thinking about the Goblin King, and that could not be borne. Sarah sighed, and dreamless oblivion overtook her.

*

A week passed, and life went on in the village near the heart of the Labyrinth. Sarah was surprised to learn the villagers didn't celebrate Midwinter as her people did. They instead celebrated the start of the New Year, an idea most novel to Sarah's outlander sensibilities. This year, Lady Dulcinea was coordinating the festival, and she organized it with a flair and panache Sarah would never have expected from the little fox woman. As small as she was, Lady Dulcinea's plans were big, and she enlisted the help of everyone in the village.

Sir Didymus became her consultant on traditions inside the Labyrinth, as he was too small to do much else, but also because he was a wealth of information and insight from years spent in the Labyrinth proper. Ludo was asked to call the rocks that surrounded a huge bonfire at the center of the village. The Wiseman was enlisted to cast some decorative spells, and Sarah occasionally helped him in exchange for more knowledge on the subject. Hoggle proved to be very adept at wreath-making, and his position as a gardener gave him insight to the location of many beautiful vines and winter flowers for the occasion. Sarah began cooking with a few of the other women in the village.

One was a reclusive half-breed woman she hadn't often seen named Riganne. Her father was a human, and she lacked enough skill at magic to keep from passing as a full-blooded fey among her mother's people, so she had come to the Labyrinth. Along the way, she had learned she had an acumen for sewing, and so she earned her place as a seamstress for the Goblin King, at least until the Court returned to the castle. The courtiers had brought several seamstresses among their personal retainers, and Riganne's position was mostly redundant. She still visited the castle periodically, and so she was privy to all the latest gossip. Her wry wit in the retelling of this gossip kept the other women, Sarah included, as they kept busy in preparation for the festival.

Today, Riganne was excused from the cooking as she worked at a fine piece of cloth with her intricate needlepoint, and a mischievous grin danced across her lips. "I have a pretty bit of news from the castle today," she baited.

Sarah smiled and shook her head as she sliced apples of a pie. Next to her, a dwarf woman named Ayah nudged her in the ribs. "This oughtta be good," she whispered.

At a few encouraging words, Riganne began. "News is, His Royal Majesty is arse over teakettle in love with a girl. According to a few of my friends in the kitchens, some stunningly beautiful lady showed up at the Midwinter Revel and our esteemed monarch proceeded to kiss the breath out of her, _in public_." The others in the room tittered over this choice bit of news, but Sarah's knife clattered to the countertop and barely missed her fingers.

"You okay?" Ayah grunted. Sarah nodded absently, and Riganne resumed her narrative.

"It's old news that the King was courting some foreign princess, but everyone's buzzing about her now that they've actually seen her. I really wish I could have been there, if only to see from the sidelines. By the way the Court's carrying on, she's really something."

"What's she look like?" Sarah asked, making a concerted effort to keep her voice steady.

Riganne put down her work for a moment. "That's a bit of a mystery, really. She disappeared, and I mean disappeared before a lot of people got a good look at her. But the general consensus is she had hair blacker than the moonless sky, parchment pale skin and green eyes. One of my friends called her painfully pretty. I'd like to see her and judge for myself, but that's not to happen, I guess." Sarah nodded and took up her knife again.

The back kitchen door opened and a gust of cold wind followed a shivering Lady Dulcinea. Sarah sighed in relief, and sliced another apple into even eighths. Lady Dulcinea disapproved of gossip for the most part, so for the while, she was safe. The small fox woman was a pragmatic balance to Sir Didymus's rash ways, and Sarah liked her.

Lady Dulcinea went to the hearth and rubbed her paws briskly together. "What wast thee discussing upon my arrival?" she asked.

"The newest from the castle," Riganne drawled. "About His Majesty and his Lady." She briefly repeated what she had just told the others, and Lady Dulcinea took a seat.

"I have not heard any such news in a long time. 'Tis terribly romantic. Thou must tell us all more of the King's paramour." Sarah wilted inwardly. Lady Dulcinea was supposed to be practical, damn it all.

"Well… His Majesty didn't just kiss the Lady. He also put a ring on her, one that according to his claim couldn't be taken off. She's been a might bit difficult to find, and rumor says it will help His Majesty scry her out of hiding." Sarah's eyes darted down to her hand and saw nothing. Her concealment spell still held, and she was infinitely grateful for that small favor. Riganne was still talking. "The Court's expecting a marriage in a few months, assuming the King is able to track this girl down. She seems a bit flighty to me, but His Majesty always did love a challenge. Oh well. If she's what makes him happy, I'll bow to her as Queen."

Sarah felt very awkward. They were calmly discussing her life as if it were some particularly juicy bit of talk, which to them, she supposed, it was. But to have her theoretical disposition so casually talked over was still highly uncomfortable. And their assumption she was to marry the Goblin King! Of all the ridiculous things!

"How do you know His Majesty intends to marry this woman? It seems to me he's intent on just catching her." Sarah found her words slowly, and she was mildly disturbed by all the attention fixed on her.

"You have a point," Riganne admitted. "You would know better than any of us; after all, he raged against you for months after you beat this Labyrinth. I have never seen a man so strung out as His Majesty after you left. For half a second, I even thought he might be of a mind to marry _you_, from the way he was carrying on." Sarah blanched, and Ayah patted her arm.

"I wouldn't wish his love on anyone, dearie," the dwarf said in her gravelly voice.

"I pity this poor woman His Majesty has taken up with," Riganne said solemnly, but the twinkle in her eyes told another story. "But I also envy her." Heads turned to face the half-fey woman. "I used to be his tailor ladies. You _know_ what I'm talking about. His Majesty may never give this woman a moment's peace, but I doubt she'll mind overmuch." A few of them nodded, but Sarah flushed in mortified comprehension.

Riganne laughed at her expression. "You saw him, Sarah. Don't tell me you weren't at least a little tempted." Sarah shook her head violently, unable to trust her mouth to speak.

"I was fifteen!" she squeaked. "I know a lot of women marry by that age, but I was too young."

"You aren't now though. Can you honestly say now that if you saw him you wouldn't take the opportunity to jump him?" Sarah hadn't thought she could get any redder, but Riganne's comment pushed her blush to new extremes.

"I think," Sarah said finally, "that I would have no problems resisting him at all." She hesitated for a moment, and decided to play along with the bawdy word game. "Seductive pants or not." Laughter erupted in the room. Even Lady Dulcinea chuckled a bit. Sarah grinned broadly and took a rolling pin to her pie crust.

"Ah, you are horrible," Riganne teased. "But this is all hypothetical anyway. I doubt the high and mighty Jareth would want any of us, except maybe for you Sarah. You're beautiful enough to hold his attention. But enough of all this. He's wooing some princess, and he seems dead intent on her. When he catches her, I hope she gives him hell. It'll be a fitting comeuppance, I think." Riganne raised her drinking cup in a toast.

"To the mystery princess, wherever she may be. May she give His Majesty no peace all his days and enough domestic discord to keep him on his toes and off our backs."

Lady Dulcinea lifted a small cup of her own. "I shall drink to that! Hear hear." The others raised their own drinks, and Sarah tipped hers as well. As long as none of them suspected her, she was safe. They returned to their work, and the gossip shifted to more innocent subjects. Sarah breathed a hearty sigh of relief, never noticing Riganne's curious gaze.

*

The days until the festival flew by, and all their preparations were finally complete. Sarah's dishes were all very well received at the beginning feast, and she had nearly as much fun at the dancing that followed as she had at the revel, before the Goblin King interrupted everything. She laughed and sang and danced with the others and got a good deal of enjoyment out of everything. She performed magic tricks for the few village children and spun stories about the winter festivals that took place at home.

As the evening wore down, Sarah was surprised again to learn there was an exchange of gifts. She hadn't thought to prepare anything for the others, but they assured her all the stories she'd told to keep their minds occupied was gift enough. Ludo presented her with a beautiful rock, a smooth copper and purple piece of marble studded with occasional clear crystals. She thanked him heartily, and the Wiseman gave her a heavy book of history. Sarah was initially confused, until she flipped through the pages and learned the book was filled with the true versions of the stories she so loved.

Sir Didymus and Lady Dulcinea jointly presented her with a basket of spices she was unable to get in the Labyrinth or through magic. Fragrant saffron and cinnamon and carefully ground ginger greeted her nose, and she laughed in delight. She had been fond of those spices when she had lived in Istrien, and a lot of her favorite recipes featured those particular ingredients. She thanked them and promised to prepare a few dishes to share. Riganne gifted her with a heavy bundle wrapped in tissue, and Sarah opened it to discover a lovingly made gown in a soft ivory. Delicately embroidered flowers in white and green flowed over the fabric, and Sarah smiled at this particular thoughtfulness.

The last person to give Sarah a gift was Hoggle. He shuffled his feet before the fire in embarrassment as he offered her a rudely wrapped package. Puzzled, Sarah opened it to find a little silver hair comb. Tiny pearl and peridot flowers winked softly in the firelight, and tears came to Sarah's eyes at Hoggle's thoughtfulness. That he would voluntarily surrender something so lovely spoke highly of his regard for her.

"Thank you so much, Hoggle," she said as she bent to hug him. "It's the most wonderful thing I've ever been given."

"Well," he huffed. "Wasn't nothing. I just found it in the Labyrinth when I was pullin' up weeds and I thoughts, Sarah would like this a real lot, so's I cleaned it up and gave it to ya." His words were modest, but a very real pride filled his grumbling voice.

"I will save this for a very special occasion," Sarah promised. She tucked the tiny bundle into her apron pocket for later, and joined everyone at the final dance around the bonfire. When she finally stumbled up the stairs to her room a few hours later, she carefully settled all the gifts she'd received on her small dresser and let the waning moon's light ease her into a peaceful sleep.

*

Winter gradually left the Labyrinth, and Spring came into ascendancy. With the change of the seasons, the villagers gratefully broke out of their cold-weather confinement and all the distant behaviors thereof. Sarah wasn't at all surprised to see several budding relationships in the works as the leaves turned and early flowers pushed through the cold soil. Hoggle finally noticed a potential companion in the dwarf Ayah, and Sarah offered a small encouragement in that respect.

She was more surprised when Riganne, her newest friend, showed all the signs of a woman besotted. There was no one of their general kind in the village, so that meant Riganne had found a companion in the castle. Sarah wasn't opposed to her friend's happiness, but all the same, it made her nervous to know that Riganne might be in love with one of the people that had seen her with the Goblin King. Riganne was not stupid, and if this continued, there was a very real chance that someone would figure it all out and Sarah's anonymity within the Labyrinth would cease to exist.

It was on a chilly day nearly two months after the festival when Sarah went out to gather more firewood for the kitchen hearth. She was near the kitchen door with her arms full of firewood when she saw Riganne walking down the path from the castle arm-in-arm with some dark haired man. Sarah called out a greeting and nudged her head toward the front door of the cottage. Riganne waved and pulled her companion in that direction.

Sarah kicked open the door as gently as she could manage and had the door mostly closed behind her when she heard the answering creak of the front door. She heard Riganne's voice, sounding more cheerful than she'd ever heard before, as well as a somewhat familiar masculine one answering in response.

"This is where my good friend lives. She makes the most amazing bread," Riganne chattered. "We will have to convince her to let you try it."

The man laughed in response. "Oh we will, will we?"

Sarah grinned and rolled her eyes as she began unloading her bundle of firewood. The door closing the kitchen off from the rest of the cottage swung open, and Sarah turned to greet her friend. The sight of Riganne's company forced Sarah into a cold stop, and the chopped logs tumbled from her arms to the cobbled floor.

"Sarah?" the golden-eyed fey man asked in shock.

"_Irias_?"

*

When Irias rose that morning, he had expected only to have an enjoyable day with his lady. Riganne was a fortuitous discovery from days spent prowling the castle. He had been investigating the rumors the servants were passing, and he'd literally run into her as she was leaving the chambers of a minor lord of Angelore. All the fabric and garments she'd been carrying had fallen haphazardly all over the hall, and she'd given him such a tongue lashing as he'd had in a very long time. Irias was immediately enchanted with her.

It was not a soulbond. He didn't expect it to be. At least, not yet. His spirit was too free to attach itself to any one woman immediately, and he knew nothing about her. Another thing that endeared him to Riganne was she didn't expect any such thing either. Theirs was a casual affection that lacked the intensity or immediacy of the Goblin King's fixation upon his Sarah. The conversation was excellent, and they kept each other entertained. The side benefit that she could mend a few of his more embarrassingly ruined items of clothing was an added bonus.

They got along very well for such mismatched people, and they disagreed just as often as they agreed. It was a novel experience for Irias, and he enjoyed reading her mercurial moods. She kept him on his toes and he kept her off her guard. It was a well-maintained balance, one that worked well for both of them.

So that day Irias was prepared to finally meet a few of the people she so humorously described whenever she told him about her daily life. He'd only paid mild attention to her stories of the mage-woman that lived with a dwarf and a rock caller, and he'd outright ignored Riganne's speculation on what her friend might be, as she acted as a human but seemed fey in every other respect. He had expected to be introduced to Riganne's friends, socialize, and spend the rest of the day with his lady. He had _not_ expected to stumble upon the Goblin King's beloved in the middle of the Labyrinth.

Sarah stood frozen in disbelief as she stared at him, and he stared unabashedly back at her. Riganne looked on in confusion, wondering how they could possibly know each other, and Irias could not summon any words to reassure her. He was simply stunned by the girl, nay, _woman_, before him. She was definitely no mere girl anymore.

"What are you doing here?" she asked accusingly.

"Riganne brought me. What are _you_ doing here? Do you have any idea how long Jareth has been looking for you? He'll kick himself when he hears…"

Sarah cut him off by grabbing his collar and shoving him into a wall. Pots clattered down from hooks around his head, but he was too preoccupied with the sudden spitfire in front of him. "I'm hiding from him," she hissed. "And you would do well to make sure it stays that way." With a free hand, Sarah traced a few complicated sigils in the air and closed her eyes to focus a spell.

"Swear that you shall not betray my place to the Goblin King, Irias. By neither word, nor look, nor deed." A pained expression crossed her face. "Or Riganne's life is forfeit."

Irias gasped at the sharpness of the spell, and felt it tingle at the base of his spine. This was a serious magic, and Sarah obviously didn't want the Goblin King to know where she was. "By neither word, nor look, nor deed," he numbly repeated, "will Irias Ariteeallon betray you to the Goblin King Jareth. On this I swear." Sarah nodded, and the tang of strong magic left the room.

"What just happened?" Riganne demanded, a shaken look of hurt on her face. "How do you two know each other? And what, in the name of all hells, was _that_?"

"Sarah here is the Princess of Istrien, the same one His Majesty Jareth has been looking for all this time." Sarah glared at him, and Riganne's jaw dropped.

"You're the… but… why… how?" Riganne stuttered. "You can't be a princess; you were a servant who wished the prince of your land away."

Sarah finally let go of Irias and rubbed her temples. "I'm a princess, all right, but my stepmother Katrinne dislikes me. Once my brother was born, she sent me from the Court to the nursery, and to the royal kitchens after my father died. I came here because she tried to kill me."

"Tried, yes, and damned near succeeded," Irias said as he straightened his collar. "His Majesty told me what she did to you. It's a wonder you're still alive, my Lady."

Riganne's darting gaze settled on Sarah, and a grim triumph joined the hurt in her eyes. "I knew you were hiding something that afternoon before the festival, but I never suspected it would be this. Why didn't you tell us? Didn't you trust us?"

Irias watched indecision and ambivalence make war on Sarah's face. Whatever the answer, Sarah didn't want to give it voice. Riganne nodded once in angry acceptance and turned away from her friend. "I see. We are your _friends_, Sarah. If anyone, you can trust your friends. We would never have told the King if you asked us. We would not require this ridiculous spell of enforced silence. Is that what you think of us?"

"I'm sorry," Sarah said brokenly. "It is difficult for me to trust in anything. Every good thing that has ever happened to me has been broken under something worse. Every time I become content, something happens to disrupt my world. It is not that I do not trust you not to tell the King, it is that I don't trust Fate not to drag you all into my life. And I certainly don't trust the King not to force you to tell him what you know. It's for your own _protection_."

Riganne's anger melted into depressed sympathy. "Oh, Sarah. I didn't know. I never even thought… I apologize. Of course I won't tell anyone of this. Hoggle would blurt it out to save his hide, the little opportunist, Ludo wouldn't know not to, and Sir Didymus is always losing track of his words. No wonder you never told any of us!" She folded her arms around Sarah. "I promise I will practice the utmost of my discretion. His Majesty will learn nothing of you from me. On this I swear."

She spent more time reassuring the shaken Sarah, and Irias was left to his thoughts. It was no small wonder Jareth had never found the girl, as he had never thought to search his own Labyrinth. He had looked everywhere else she could have possibly gone, but never his own kingdom. Irias could have laughed from the irony of it.

The afternoon went on, and Sarah eventually recovered enough to laugh at Irias's jokes. The day was redeemed by their companionable conversation, as well as a generous serving of Sarah's newest batch of bread. Irias parted from the village and returned to the castle with his mind racing. He replayed their words again and again, as well as his vow not to tell the Goblin King of her. He was halfway down the hall to his room when he finally caught the loophole in his promise. Irias transported himself directly to Jareth's study and took a chair across from the monarch.

"Irias? What are you doing here?" Jareth asked. Irias flinched at the parallelism from earlier.

"I saw her today," he blurted desperately. "I saw Sarah."

Jareth jumped to his feet and slammed his hands to his desk. "Where?"

Irias opened his mouth and felt his throat constrict painfully. In his mind, he sensed a vice-like grip prepare to descend on Riganne should he attempt to continue. He clenched his eyes shut and exhaled sharply. "I cannot tell you," Irias said tightly. "I swore on the life of my beloved I would not betray her to you, by neither word, nor look, nor deed."

The excitement fled Jareth's taut stance, and he collapsed back into his chair. "She bound you by the old rituals. Of course. That would be too easy, wouldn't it?" His eyes stared through Irias and lost their focus. He shook his head and looked back at Irias. "How was she?"

Finally, something Irias could answer. "She looked healthy, seemed happy. She has friends." A questioning look still remained in the Goblin King's eyes, and Irias read it clearly: _Is she safe?_ He nodded. "And Sarah is in the safest place I could imagine, short of by your side."

Jareth slouched into his seat and let his head fall back in relief. He closed his eyes and mouthed a prayer of thanks to the fey gods. He looked again at Irias, and the fey nodded at the dismissal in his mismatched eyes. Irias left the room and returned to his chambers for a strong drink. All the strong emotional twists and turns of the day had left him drained and tense, and he needed to unwind. It was hours before his thoughts calmed, and it was even longer before the terrible melancholy left his tired mind.

*

Another month passed in much the same way as that day. Sarah lived in constant tension for the fear of being discovered, and Riganne made many attempts to alleviate her stress. Irias visited the village every other day, and much was made of Riganne's attentive lover. She received no end of grief from the village women, especially Sarah, as Irias's appearances became even more endearingly romantic, and humorously ridiculous.

Today, Irias had roused the village early in the morning with a song composed to Riganne's beauty. In her window above, Riganne smiled down at him, as he belted his tune up from where he knelt on the muddy ground. It would have caused the ladies to swoon, had he not been so dangerously off-key and painfully loud. His rhymes also left something to the imagination, and several of the more displeased villagers let him know as they were dragged out into the cool morning in just their nightclothes.

"He's terrible," Hoggle grumbled.

"Sound bad!" Ludo wailed.

Sarah just laughed as Riganne descended from her window to the door. As bad a singer as he was, Irias was still able to evoke some sympathy from the ladies, and they egged him on shamelessly.

"Kiss 'im!" Ayah called.

"Yes! Favor thy troubadour with a token of your appreciation," Lady Dulcinea added.

Riganne turned her eyes to Sarah, and she nodded. Riganne shrugged and pulled Irias to his feet. She delicately kissed him and grinned at a most approving response before turning for her door again.

"My Lady Riganne!" Irias called out and pulled on her hand. "I beseech thee to stay with me, and on this glorious spring morning, to consent to be mine own seamstress and laundry-maid for ever more!" Much of the ruckus in the village calmed after the impromptu proposal to wait for Riganne's answer. The half-fey woman blushed crimson and bit her lip before hesitantly nodding. Cheers erupted all around, but Riganne held a hand up to stop Irias from following her into her house.

"Seamstress I will be, but you will be doing your own laundry sir!" The cheers turned to laughter, and Irias, chagrined by all the attention, waved a hand over his disheveled and muddy clothes. The mud disappeared, and to a great many catcalls, Riganne pulled him into her home and closed the door.

Sarah shook her head in bemusement and went back inside. She hurried her morning ablutions along and got to work in the kitchen, preparing some of the most elaborate dishes she knew. An engagement merited breaking out the spices she'd received at New Year's, and she fully intended to live up to her village reputation as an excellent cook. Later, as many of her preparations neared completion, Sarah began attending to her looks. A celebration had been planned as she toiled in the kitchen, and she fully intended to look her best.

She brought out the dress Riganne had given her and Hoggle's gift of the little comb. Sarah twirled happily before the mirror in her room and smiled at the romantic contrast between her dark hair and the pale diaphanous layers of the dress. She then brushed her hair out and tied it back before reaching for the comb. She sat down on her bed and opened the window so the reflection on the glass could help her direct her hand. She tucked the comb into the top of her gathered tresses and smiled at the effect before she lost sight of everything entirely.

Sarah was shocked by the suddenness of her fall into the darkness. One moment, she had been pinning her hair up, and the next, she was here. Something had gone wrong, but she hadn't felt anything touch her, and she hadn't eaten or drunk anything that might cause such a reaction. She shivered as cold suffused her limbs and crept into her torso. After the cold, a feeling of being pricked by a thousand needles followed, and a sense of great wrongness overtook her. Whatever had happened, this was serious.

The Goblin King appeared before her, a look of immense irritation on his handsome face. "What is it now?" he asked with no small measure of impatience.

"I don't know," she answered. "I just don't feel right." She drank in his features, but bent in pain as she felt a stabbing pain attack her midsection. Clearly, a measure of her agony was writ on her face, as the Goblin King looked increasingly concerned. He rushed to her side and held her up as her legs began to fail her.

"What's wrong?"

Sarah shook her head. The pins and needles came in greater force, and another stab of pain stole her breath. Her teeth chattered as she said, "I'm cold, and I hurt." She touched her stomach with a shaking hand. "Here."

The Goblin King narrowed his eyes and peeled his gloves off one at a time. He dropped them in the darkness, but Sarah didn't have the presence of mind to wonder where they went. "This will not do at all," he said brusquely. Sarah gasped, and he took her left hand between his. He laced his bare fingers through her own and chanted a few words in a language she didn't know. The ring on her finger grew hot and cut through the cold, and all the pain subsided. Slowly, the cold bled out of her body, and she was able to stand and breathe freely.

"What happened to me?" she asked as he pulled his gloves back on.

"It was an assassin's spell, dark magic, and rather obscure at that. Your stepmother grows more inventive every time she tries to kill you." He shrugged and turned his gaze to her face.

"But she didn't do anything!" Sarah protested. "Nothing odd happened to me at all today. I haven't had a visitor or anything unusual for months. It doesn't make sense."

"That's the nature of this spell," he said. "It's a poison, hidden in an innocuous object. It was favored by assassins because it was impossible to trace. It stops the heart on contact and leaves the object, so that no trace remains. It can also pass through dozens of hands without harming anyone but the intended recipient. Can you think of anything you have received from a friend? Something that you only touched today?"

Sarah thought over all the events of her day. She'd done a few chores by hand, and let her magic take care of the rest. She was just dressing for the engagement festivities and had pulled her hair back… "A comb," Sarah said shakily. "I received a comb at a festival celebrating the New Year, but I hadn't used it until today. I wanted to save it for a special occasion."

"And what occasion was that?"

"It was for a small get together with the other…" Sarah bit off her words and glared at the Goblin King. "A clever trick, but I'm not falling for your game."

He snapped in mock disappointment. "Ah, foiled again," he laughed. "You must admit it was a good attempt."

"Yes, yes, bravo. Your near success is noted." Sarah changed the tone of her voice from bored to serious in an instant. "Now, how did you stop the poison?"

The Goblin King shrugged again. "I temporarily imbued your ring with a good deal of my power. It was worth the gamble; my magic dispelled the poison as thoroughly as if I had been there."

Sarah was reminded of the Wiseman's words from months ago. "A soulbond runs far deeper than any spell could affect, and physical proximity between two such soulbonded negates any ill enchantments on either," he'd said. So this mess that she was in with the Goblin King was a soulbond, was it? She groaned quietly. That was all she needed right now to make her present situation any worse. _Just wonderful_.

She stretched her sore arms over her head until a bit of the circulation the cold had cut off returned to them. She swung her arms down to her sides, invigorated for the good stretch. The Goblin King laughed quietly, and she had another reason to glare at him.

"Relax, Sarah. It is good to see you so well settled into yourself. I was beginning to think I might never see you unless you were in some element of grave danger."

"I just was," she shot back wryly. "Or have you forgotten the situation you just extricated me from?"

"I have not forgotten, but it was good to imagine for a moment that you were here of your own accord." A vague sorrow tinged his voice.

Sarah rolled her neck to loosen the muscles of her shoulders and arched her back until it popped. "Now why ever would I come here voluntarily?" she asked. "I can't think of anyone that would wish to have you haunting her mind."

The Goblin King set his hands against his hips and threw her a somewhat dark look. "I assure you that I do not lack for companionship, should I want it. It's rare that anyone I should want rebuffs my advances." His posture slouched a little, and a small bit of defeat ruined the proud set of his shoulders. "Though why it had to be _you_, of all people," he muttered softly, and Sarah suspected she wasn't meant to hear it.

"What do you mean by that, _Jareth_?" Sarah asked pointedly, amazed at her own nerve for calling the Goblin King by name.

"Are you sure you want to ask that question, Sarah? You might not like the answer you receive," he challenged.

"Whether I like it or not is not an issue. Whenever I ask a question, I expect to receive an honest answer."

"Very well then," Jareth answered, and Sarah did not at all appreciate the honeyed voice he used. At least, in the context of the situation. She was quite sure that in an appropriate setting, that voice could do unspeakable things to her, but imagining what that setting might be left Sarah flustered. "Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on your perspective, it seems I have developed a sort of, how shall I say, attachment to you, and you, however much you might protest, have reciprocated that attachment." Sarah opened her mouth, wanting to contest his words, and found she had nothing to say. This was a soulbond, whether she liked it or not, and she did not have the energy to keep fighting it.

"It is that _attachment_ that has allowed you to come here, and it is the reason why you still live." His voice hardened. "And in addition to this attachment, I have learned, quite to my great chagrin, that you may be the only woman I will ever love." Sarah inhaled sharply as the Goblin King paused, as if he did not know how to continue from that statement. "Your continual rejection is at the least disheartening, and I find your stubborn refusal to let me protect you from the woman you call stepmother even further degrading. I do not appreciate your lack of trust in me, even after I have twice saved your life."

Sarah could not speak as he poured his frustration out into words, and she pitied him all his feelings that she didn't return. The Goblin King eloquently laid out his emotions raw and bleeding at her feet, and she couldn't help but feel that she was trampling on them.

"And worst of all," Jareth said accusingly, "to even form this kind of bond toward me at all, you must possess some depth of feeling for me, and it cannot be hate. Somewhere in your heart you love me, but you will ever deny it, and refuse to give me the power to seek you out. I cannot call you to me as you do, so you will never know how very deeply I feel for you. I would gladly _die_ for you, Sarah, but you will not believe me."

"I'm sorry," Sarah whispered, willing her voice not to crack.

"Sorry you may be, but you will not repent. You will not give me the modicum of comfort to even let me watch out for you and ensure no harm comes to you. I must wait on tenterhooks, not knowing anything of what happens to you until some dark thing befalls you and you summon my aid. I knew nothing of what your last six months have been like, save that they were without mortal peril. You are like a child with a toy; you use my feelings for you when it is convenient and toss me aside when I make any attempt to find you. Every time I reach for you, I reach in vain.

"You take as much as I can give you and more, while giving nothing of yourself in return. And I say _no more_, Sarah. Until you place even a small amount of trust in me and give back a bit of the power you stole from me, I will deny you as firmly as you deny me. You will be unable to summon my aid, unable to seek me out, unable to wish for my presence." He pulled her roughly to him and kissed her hard enough to leave tears in her eyes. He set her skin aflame, and she wished desperately that he would touch her again.

"Stop haunting me," he whispered, but the command sounded more like a plea as Sarah looked up into his turbulent gaze.

"Please… don't," she gasped.

"No, _beloved_," Jareth spat. _"You _have no power over_ me!"_ He vanished from her mind, and the darkness coiled and lashed at her like the winds of a terrible storm. Sarah screamed then, and fell into her body as if from a great height. Waves of unassailable pain washed over her, and she cried out as it localized in her chest. It felt as if Jareth had ripped her heart out and trod on it before returning it bruised to her. Her nerves still sang from that final kiss, and desperate need raged unabated in her skin. Pure misery swelled within her as she recalled each of Jareth's final words. _Somewhere in your heart, you love me…_ Her shoulders shook with silent sobs as she realized the truth of it.

Sarah was deeply, painfully, desperately, utterly in love with the Goblin King, and she could do nothing about it. His love was frightening to her, but the thought of a time when she would be unable to see him or talk to him or touch him, even if only in their minds, was infinitely more frightening. And now that he had revoked all the power she'd apparently held over him, she would forever be unable to tell him. She had no idea how to give him sway over her, especially now that she couldn't contact him in any way.

A fresh wave of agony crested over her body and brought with it another surge of longing for him. If her defeat of the Labyrinth had done this to him, she didn't know how he'd ever managed to go on from that moment. Sarah wanted nothing more than to curl up into a fetal ball and shut away all the misery inside her, never to be freed again. Anything was better than this special hell she'd made for herself.

Sarah looked out her open window into the night, hoping for anything to distract her. The moon was full, but dark clouds were massing over the Labyrinth, and the sharp sudden chill in the breeze told her it was going to rain. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and she felt a greater sorrow resonate with her own. The Labyrinth felt every bit as wretched as she did, and Sarah wondered if the coming storm wasn't another form of the bone-weary sorrow that pervaded the atmosphere.

"Look," Sarah murmured to the air, "I'm so sad I made the angels cry." Fresh tears tracked down her face and the first drops of rain fell from the sky.

"_Stop haunting me_…"

*

Katrinne felt the spell in the comb trigger, but she could not do anything about it, as she was in council at the time. The ancient fools that made up the council were old when Willim came to the throne, and they were so deeply entrenched in Istrien royal matters that Katrinne had had a hell of a time attempting to get rid of them. She had waited patiently for six months for this spell to come to its natural conclusion, and to have her victory spoiled by the presence of these old men was nearly unbearable.

Katrinne yawned as one of the more decrepit of the councilors launched into a tangent on the crop failure. She knew all about it, and was most probably responsible for it, as any magic monarchs worked tended to have a similar effect on the kingdoms they ruled. The consequences of working death magic meant death in the kingdom, and it had come to bear on the crops. Katrinne wondered idly what the councilors would say if and when people started to die, and she shrugged it off. If she had been a betting woman, Katrinne would have placed money on a plague striking the kingdom, and it couldn't be ruled out. She had just killed the heir to the throne, and a twinge of excitement leapt in her cold heart at the thought, but there was no telling what kind of fallout that action would have.

She suffered through the rest of the council with a hint of a smile on her distracted face, and rushed to her chambers as soon as was seemly. Servants gaped as Katrinne ran through the halls like a child, and she threw the bolts on her doors after she slammed them shut. She threw herself into the chair before her vanity and gleefully ripped the heavy velvet from her mirror.

"Mirror, mirror, cast from sand, who is the fairest in the land?" She nearly sang the words to the reflection that overlay the genii, and let her most heartless grin grace her lips.

The genii stared stubbornly out of the mirror in silence for a moment before speaking. "My Lady Queen, while fair, 'tis true that snow white Sarah _still_ fairer is than you." Her glared out at her with a look bordering on spite, but Katrinne could not see it, so caught up in her fury was she.

"How is this possible?" she howled. "I stole her breath, and still she lives. I stopped her heart, _and still she lives_. What will it take to destroy her life?" Her final words were in a scream of towering hell-fury, and her face twisted in a way it was never meant to hold. She scowled at the genii briefly before throwing herself at her bookshelves, desperate for another way to achieve her goal. Sarah had some kind of help, there was just no other explanation for her impossible stubborn survival.

Katrinne ripped through her books at a breakneck pace, determined as she had never been before to end this farce _now_. She was out of patience, and she would kill Sarah if she destroyed everything she had to do it. There were spells that took everything from the caster, but if it meant the luck-cursed girl's death, Katrinne would perform them.

She finally settled on a spell so insidious it even repulsed her. This spell was able to kill not only the victim but any who loved the intended recipient enough to die for her. It trapped the target of the spell in a barely living death that drained the lover as well. There was no way to block this spell, though a kiss from one beloved could break it, but Katrinne sincerely doubted Sarah possessed the necessary bond to fight off such a dark spell. And even if she did, whatever foolish man was stupid enough to fall in love with Sarah would have to traverse a hostile Labyrinth to get to her. It was extreme, beyond anything Katrinne had ever tried before, but it was the only thing she could think of that would guarantee that little monster-child's death.

There was extensive preparation involved, but Katrinne was not swayed. This would not take as long as the comb had, all in all maybe a month, but that was too long to sate Katrinne's rage. She began immediately, preparing a poison that possessed all the venom of her blackened and frigid heart. It called for hate, and jealously, and every dark emotion that Katrinne possessed in excess. She would not fail this time, and if the effort laid waste to everything around her, so be it.

A dark hanging cloud formed over Istrien that night, as a monster was born of Katrinne's hatred. It was a monster that would not be appeased nor sated, and the people of Istrien watched the skies in fear, sure that something terrible was to befall them, but none of them were certain what it was. Children cried in their cradles, and the people prayed to their gods. Those people of Horandil that had followed Linnaea to Istrien looked to the East, to Ennevar, where they knew their saving grace lived in Sarah, and despaired. They knew that anything this dark could only mean Katrinne had taken steps further into the shadows, and Sarah's life was in danger.

Fear hung heavy in Istrien as the people were left to wonder, and pray.

*


	6. Seeking the Never Queen

**Fairest**  
A Fanfiction by Heist

*

**Seeking the Never-Queen**

The Labyrinth was grieving. In a move of unparalleled stupidity and outright stubbornness, its two favorite people, the chosen two it had worked so very hard to unite, had nigh on severed the bond that tied them together and nearly destroyed each other in the process. Jareth pined away in his castle, obstinately refusing to back down from his self-righteous stance. Sarah spent her days heart-broken and miserable, and were it not for the tiniest bit of the soulbond that still held them together, the Labyrinth had no doubt she would have faded away by now. This was intolerable to the great maze, but it couldn't do anything about the situation. Sarah had made it promise not to reveal anything to the Goblin King, and Jareth wouldn't have listened if the Labyrinth could tell him.

As Spring wore on into a dry Summer, the Labyrinth gradually began to grow even more chaotic and disorderly, and the life within stagnated, even with the warmth of the season. The Labyrinth watched disconsolately as Sarah wore a pained smile for the benefit of her friends, and the Goblin King's escalating temper frightened many in the Court. The passages of the maze grew fearsome even to its inhabitants, and not a single person who wished away a child made an attempt to reclaim it, so impossible did the Labyrinth become.

The Labyrinth knew beyond all certainty that this was the beginning of its horrifying visions of Sarah's future. Death lay down the path she traveled, and even after all the Labyrinth's attempted interventions it seemed nothing could be done to change that grim inevitability. Sarah was going to die, and the Labyrinth knew to its great sorrow that when she did, Jareth would choose to follow her rather than break the last of their bond.

So the Labyrinth grieved, never telling anyone what it mourned, as it waited for its bleak prophecy to come to pass.

*

"You're killing her."

The Goblin King turned his pained gaze to a reproachful Irias. "I know," he said.

Irias exploded. "Then why won't you do something? Do not take offense when I say your pride is not equal in worth to the life of the love of your heart, but that is the truth of the matter."

"Is her pride worth more than my heart, then?" Jareth retorted, his voice scathing in its intensity. "I recall she balanced her own pride against her life, and her pride won."

"I have spoken to Sarah far more often than you can boast of, Your Majesty," Irias spat. "When first you courted her, you had forced her to fight the Labyrinth for her brother's sake. You did not endear yourself to her, and she believed your affections to be a lie inside of a game. She believed you would use her and discard her after you could claim to have defeated her."

"My intentions were perfectly clear," Jareth said defensively.

"Not to her," Irias said. "Sarah has not known what it is to be loved without conditions for several years, and your intensity frightened her. That anyone could love her as you do was an unfathomable thought. And now you have ruined everything with your gods-be-damned pride."

Jareth slammed his hands down on his desk and rose from his seat to look Irias in the eyes. "I have permitted much from you over the years, but you have crossed all lines now Irias. You will remember your place, and remove yourself from my home now. You may return when you have learned humility before your King. _Go_."

Irias nodded curtly and left with a halting bow. He hardened himself to the situation and cursed Jareth's stubborn stupidity with everything he had. He had noticed on the day he proposed to Riganne that Sarah had lost herself. He could see the pain written on her soul, as well as the absence of Jareth's influence hanging over her. Her aura throbbed like a bleeding wound, and he could do nothing about it but attempt to cajole Jareth into conceding. That attempt had failed spectacularly, and he was rapidly running out of options.

Now, months later, he was beginning to give up hope for any type of reconciliation between the two. Days after his engagement celebration, Sarah had approached him with a desperate plea: for Irias to take her to the Goblin King. She had forced the Labyrinth to never reveal her to the Goblin King, just as she had sworn Irias to all kinds of silence, and it could not allow her entrance to the castle. She would have been able to transport herself into the castle by way of the spell she had used at Midwinter, but her fey magic had been diminished by her misery.

Irias had agreed, and they were barely inside the castle gates when his magic spiraled out of his control. A spell settled over Sarah, one that made her invisible to all but Irias. He remembered his vow, that he would not betray her to Jareth in any way, even should she want him to do so. Irias watched Sarah's face as she stared at Jareth, and the desperate heartbreak written there was almost enough to undo him.

He left the castle and swept down the path to the village. Having to leave the castle wasn't terribly inconvenient, as he had the option of staying with Riganne, but to leave on these terms was less than satisfactory to Irias. As far as he could tell, there was nothing he could do to solve this problem but wait for Jareth to admit he was wrong. He stopped walking for a moment to laugh bitterly at the thought. Jareth had never done anything of the sort yet, and Irias strongly doubted he would admit defeat over this.

It was only a few short minutes before he arrived in the quiet village. Windows were opened on each little house to make the most of the weak summer breezes. Most of the villagers remained inside the relative safety of the tiny group of houses rather than venture into the Labyrinth, and Irias saw many of them perched against the windowsills. He looked to the upper window that opened into Sarah's room, and he swallowed hard at her desolate bearing where she leaned against the sill. He waved at her in a vain attempt to cheer her lagging spirits, but her empty look drained all good intent from him.

He finally reached Riganne's home, and she happily dragged him in, by all appearances overjoyed to see him again. Once she closed the door, she sagged into a defeated stance and gave him a helpless look, mixed with one of waiting anticipation. She had also watched Sarah's steady deterioration, and there was simply nothing left to be done. Irias had been Riganne's last hope for her friend, and he really didn't want to tell her of his failure to sway the Goblin King.

"Did he…?" Riganne trailed off as Irias shook his head in the negative.

"He won't listen to me. I tried to tell him, but he refused to see sense. Suffice to say, it would be best if I avoid him entirely in the near future."

"You are safe, aren't you?" Riganne whispered. "I don't know what I would do if he took you away from me." Irias pulled her into his arms.

"He's just angry with me right now, but he won't do anything. You need not fear for me." For a long time they stood together, neither wanting to break the comforting silence for the thought, 'What will we do now?'

*

Katrinne smiled grimly as she beheld her triumph. A small globe of silken black energy danced in her palm, the fruit of her bitter industry. Months of labor and effort had gone into this, her last great work. She had indeed sacrificed everything for this final outcome, including her beauty. Deep frown lines carved into the skin of her face, and her blonde hair had gone nearly all gray. Her eyes had changed from a pleasing brown to a severe, stark black, and her mouth had long ceased to have a sensuous curve to it. She was little better than an aged hag, but magic could change that once this task was complete.

Outside her chamber window, electricity from unloosed lightning crackled across the sky, and dark clouds hung heavy over the sunless day. The weather was not the only unnatural phenomenon affecting the land, though. Katrinne had been correct when she predicted a plague would afflict Istrien, but she had not thought it would descend so quickly, or in such force. Already several of her servants had taken leave to spend time with their ailing families, and the courtiers had shut themselves away, both from fear of the disease and from fear of her. Apparently, one of them had discovered her magical machinations, and now all of them knew she was responsible for the fall of Istrien. She shrugged at the thought and vowed to kill off the Court later, so the knowledge wouldn't filter down to the commoners.

She returned her attention to the dark spell in her hand and rolled it gently over her fingertips. In the again uncovered mirror, she saw the vague outline of the genii gape in horror at the completed spell. He had become increasingly unruly in recent days, never quite cooperating until she _persuaded_ him to do so. She had attempted to scry in on Sarah periodically through the mirror, but the genii resisted her every step of the way. The only consolation to come out of the genii's reticence was Sarah's apparent misery; she suffered of a broken heart, but all Katrinne's attempts to discover the girl's former paramour had failed. It was regrettable, not knowing who the unlucky bastard was, but at the same time fortuitous, as Katrinne doubted that any man who would abandon Sarah's affections would brave the darkened Labyrinth to get to her.

Katrinne focused the genii's powers one final time before she set her curse on the girl, and nearly laughed at the sight writ therein. Sarah was actually… It was too perfect. Katrinne could not believe her luck. A final destructive smirk graced the dark queen's lips and she closed her hand around her spell. It vanished, and she watched as it blinked into existence in the mirror's vision. Katrinne waited on the edge of her chair as she saw the spell trigger, and leaned back with a long sigh of relief.

It had been a long wait for this moment, but the girl wasn't quite dead yet. Katrinne estimated Sarah had somewhere in the area of thirteen hours left before she entirely succumbed, and she found herself laughing at the irony of it all. The only girl who had ever solved the Labyrinth in thirteen hours had only thirteen hours for someone else to attempt the impossible. The sound of her laughter filled her chambers, and any that might have heard it would have frozen in terror at the sound of it. But this final dark curse she had done had killed the few remaining servants in the castle. There was no one there to hear it.

*

Sarah had never thought her heart would be capable of holding so much pain. Even months after Jareth had renounced her entirely, the wound remained as fresh as ever, and the dull hollow throb in her chest had not abated at all. Seeing Jareth had added to the empty ache, and she had no idea how she survived each passing day. She woke up, floated numbly through each hour, waiting for the oblivion of sleep, and finally suffered tortured dreams of Jareth when she did. Today was no different.

Sarah wondered as she looked out her window if this pain was becoming any easier to bear as she became accustomed to it. Though it hadn't lessened, she no longer felt the desire to allow herself to fade away; that would only mean pulling Jareth into oblivion with her, and she wanted him to live and be happy even if she couldn't. Outside, she saw Irias come into the village, and she lacked the energy to even pretend to be happy to see him when he waved at her. She sighed and turned away from the window.

It was a hot summer, but the breeze didn't really alleviate any of the heat already inside the cottages. Sarah walked down the stairs, taking one at a time in a slow dignified progression and went into the kitchen. Somehow, she'd managed to keep up with her chores, but she had a different task in mind for today. She hung her apron up and left the cottage for the forest path to the heart of the Labyrinth.

Sarah knew what she had to do now, but she knew it most likely wouldn't work. This was her final gamble, and if this failed, Sarah had nothing else to fall back on. She steeled her resolve as she walked down the path to the castle, and the castle's orchards. She remembered the Wiseman's words from so long ago about the Labyrinth's peaches, and she somehow knew this desperate plan was her last possible way to Jareth. She stopped at the first peach tree and let serendipity guide her hand before selecting a deeply blushed golden peach. Satisfied, she left the orchard and returned to the village.

Hoggle and Ludo were in the city on some errand or other, probably to barter for something to cheer Sarah up, and she had the run of the cottage for the afternoon. Irias and Riganne were likely too wrapped up in each other to interfere with her plan, and the Wiseman had disappeared some days earlier into the Labyrinth. Many of the others in the village had taken this time away from the Labyrinth to catch up on their household duties, and were similarly indisposed. Only Sir Didymus and Lady Dulcinea were around and likely to impede her goal, but Sarah hadn't seen them outside in days, and she doubted they would interfere now of all times.

Sarah looked out the front window of the cottage at the soaring towers of the castle to reassure herself, and bit into the peach. Instead of the slow dizzy haze of before, darkness and pain flooded her senses, and a feeling of falling into an ocean of ice overcame her. She screamed, and only one word escaped her anguished throat.

"_JARETH_!"

*

Jareth bent double in pain and stumbled into his throne room. Several members of the Court rushed forward to his aid, but he knew immediately that this could not be helped by any in the Court or elsewhere. This was entirely from Sarah, and the pain tearing through him from the soulbond was tenfold worse than that time nearly four years ago when Sarah had broken his heart. Somehow, he knew the increase in pain was due to his denial of Sarah, and he ripped the link between them open.

She lay sprawled on the ground in the darkness between their minds, her breaths coming in short rattling pants. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and pure agony was writ on her beautiful face. Jareth knelt at her side and gathered her into his arms as delicately as possible, afraid that she might be further injured by the movement.

"You're going to be all right now," he murmured. "I'm here."

She pushed weakly against him and gasped, "_No_."

He hushed her, but she shook her head in a firm denial. "Listen to me," Sarah whispered urgently, choking on her words. She pulled in another shuddering breath and spoke again. "I know what this is, and you have to let me go."

Jareth's eyes widened in disbelief and he held her even closer to him. "No!" he insisted vehemently. The idea of letting her out of his arms for even a moment was unthinkable.

"It's a death curse," Sarah breathed. "And it will bring you with me unless you break the bond between us." Jareth's gaze hardened and his mouth set in a firm line.

"So be it," he said simply. "If I must live without you, then I choose not live."

Sarah looked at him sadly and closed her eyes. "I knew you'd say that," she sighed. She opened her eyes again and looked at him with a weary resolution that he didn't like at all.

"Sarah…" he trailed off.

"I'm so sorry, Jareth," Sarah said, and painfully lifted a hand to trace the line of his jaw. "At least I got to see you again."

"Sarah?" Confusion rose in him and fought with his ever-increasing unease.

"Kiss me," she said, and Jareth did without question or thought. He had waited for her to ask for so long, but now that she finally had, he couldn't help but dread the feeling of tired finality to it. His worries didn't last long, as Sarah kissed him back with a furious need that he'd only imagined, and he let himself drown in her. It felt like dying and being born and falling in love all over again, and when it was done, he felt the completion he'd been waiting for ever since he first bonded to Sarah. The soulbond fairly hummed in contentment, and that was when he knew exactly what Sarah was about to do.

"I love you," she whispered, and she pulled the surrounding darkness into herself and vanished from Jareth's mind. He felt the hole in his chest gape open again for the lack of Sarah's presence, all but one tiny little shred of her, and he felt it fading rapidly. He knew with a despairing certainty that if he did nothing now, he would never see her alive again.

Jareth came gasping back into awareness surrounded by the Court, and took no more than a split-second's concentration to vanish into his library. There had to be something there on finding one's soulbonded mate. Minutes spent searching turned into half of an hour, than an hour, and Jareth began to lose hope of finding anything. He felt Sarah's life dwindling further, and he couldn't do anything about it. He put his head in his hands, and wept.

*

In the millennia since the Labyrinth had come to be, it had experienced many moments of extreme emotion. Births, deaths, happiness, sorrow, amusement, annoyance, exhaustion and exuberance were all well-worn paths in the mind of the Labyrinth. It had felt the full range of emotions that existed, and had weathered all of them with a dispassionate self-control. To lose control was to unleash forces the likes of which had never been seen by mortal beings, and so the Labyrinth had never allowed itself to lose control. But never before had the Labyrinth chosen to give life to a child it claimed as its own, and felt the life of that child fade.

When the flame of Sarah's life flickered and nearly burned itself out, the Labyrinth loosed all its fabled control and allowed itself to be overtaken by fury. Wild magic raged free and unrestrained through the corridors and passages of the Labyrinth, and it did not care. The most dark, vile and fearsome creatures of the Labyrinth were unbound and allowed to run uninhibited, and the Labyrinth did not care. Sarah was dying. _Sarah_ was dying. Sarah was _dying_. The Labyrinth would not allow it.

The Labyrinth began to let go of the ties that bound it to the kingdom of Ennevar. Those that came undone it surrendered, and those that held, it ripped through. Sarah was dying. _Sarah_ was dying. Sarah was _dying_. That would not stand.

As more and more magic became available to the Labyrinth, it sent spiraling, questing fingers out past the confines of Ennevar to discover the culprit of this most hideous crime. Finally, it was free of itself, free of the twisting mazes and tunnels that made the solid physical structure what it was, and it set its formidable eyes searching. To the west, storms of tainted magic roared over Istrien, and the soul of the Labyrinth knew exactly who it was looking for.

"_KATRINNE!"_

_*_

They found Sarah lying stricken on the cool flagstones of the kitchen floor, insensate and barely breathing. A half-eaten peach lay abandoned a few feet from her outstretched fingers, and several unsavory conclusions were drawn. While several of the villagers moved Sarah to her bed, others threw around possibilities and theories for Sarah's near-death state. Hoggle immediately denied any wrongdoing when both Ludo and Sir Didymus gave him accusing looks.

"Had to be Jareth," Hoggle said angrily. "'E's done it before, 'e'd do it again."

Riganne and Irias knew better, but both were hesitant to say anything; Sarah was well-loved by nearly all of them, but the knowledge she had lied to them, and the fact that she was the almost paramour of the Goblin King himself would leave most of the villagers feeling betrayed.

Hoggle continued to rant, and Riganne shared a distressed look with Irias. He nodded, and spoke. "Jareth wouldn't poison her, Hoggle."

"You would say that, you bein' his kin an' all," Hoggle spat. "You want to see the best in 'im. Asides, the royal rat's had it in for her ever since she got the beat 'im at his own game."

Riganne threw her lover a pleading look before stepping forward. "No, Hoggle. The King wouldn't hurt Sarah because he loves her."

Hoggle gave pause before blurting, "T'aint so! Jareth's all lovey over some princess or somethin'. Not our Sarah." Riganne swallowed hard before kneeling to Hoggle's level. She had made a promise, and now she was going to break it. She hoped Sarah would forgive her.

"Sarah _is_ a princess. And she's the one His Majesty loves."

Hoggle backed away with indignant confusion in her eyes. "No she ain't! She woulda told us if she were royalty. She woulda told us!"

Irias pulled Riganne to her feet and looked levelly down at Hoggle. "It's true," he said. "I saw her at the Midwinter Revel. I've spoken to her about who she is, and she didn't want to tell you because she didn't think you'd be able to keep her secret from the King."

Hoggle shook his head in fervent denial. "I wouldn't 'a said nothing to nobody about her if she didn't want me to. I wouldn't 'a!" Irias watched the dwarf fight with his conscience and regretted every moment of it. He hadn't wanted to see the shock and betrayal, yet there it was. The stairs creaked with a few heavy steps, and he turned to see the saddened visage of the Wiseman as he descended from Sarah's room.

The room quieted, and the Wiseman cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, but…" He seemed lost for words, and he finally shook his head curtly as his shoulders fell. Even his ever-talkative hat drooped, silent for once. A flurry of sorrowful activity took up in the room, and the Wiseman left for his own home. Irias followed.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

The Wiseman sighed a heavy yes. "This is one of the darkest curses I have ever seen. I can feel that there is some kind of key to undo it, but I could not say what. I know that her life will continue to fade until she is entirely gone, and that will be the end of her. Even I cannot bring back the dead."

"But she has a soulbond!" Irias blurted. "If she dies she will take Jareth with her. Surely his life will sustain her for a time!"

Again, the Wiseman shook his head, unsurprised by Irias's revelation. "This curse is such that it would drag any bonded in with her. She only lives now because of the soulbond with His Majesty. I would be astounded if he is not already feeling the effects of the spell."

Irias froze. He suddenly felt very torn between his friend and his liege. There was a way to save Sarah, but the longer they took to find it, the more they endangered Jareth, and the Goblin King had no successor. Without an heir to rule it, the Labyrinth would run entirely out of control, even more so than it had in recent weeks. Jareth had to survive, but Irias very much doubted he would want to if his soulbonded did not. He had to see Jareth, _right now_.

Irias prepared to magically transport himself back to the castle, but he felt a sudden backlash of magic from the Labyrinth. Something had gone very wrong, and he didn't trust his relatively minor magic to get him through it. "Tell Riganne I have gone to the castle," he said to the Wiseman. Without looking back, he took off down the path to the castle at a dead run. If he was correct in his suspicions, there was no time to waste.

*

Riganne watched Irias run off through the still-open window toward the castle, and she turned to face a small group of still-shocked villagers. Ludo was mostly quiet, and for once, she appreciated the hulking creature's mental simplicity. Sir Didymus and Lady Dulcinea stood together in numb distress, Sir Didymus occasionally muttering, "My Lady," under his breath. Hoggle still chanted quiet denials of the truth and Irias's unfortunate character assassination.

She felt helpless and hopeless and utterly unsure of what to do. Riganne had sworn to Sarah the King would hear nothing from her, and as a part-fey, she had to keep her word. It had been difficult enough to break her promise not to tell any of the villagers…

Riganne bolted upright from her seat and went to Hoggle. She touched the dwarf's little shoulder and he started from his reverie.

"What?" he asked irritably. Riganne winced. He was still slightly angry at her for not saying anything earlier, she suspected, but this was too important for her to take much mind of that.

"Hoggle, I need you to go to the castle and tell the Goblin King where Sarah is."

He looked at her suspiciously. "Why shoulds I? Why don't you go up yourself?"

"Because I swore to Sarah that the Goblin King would learn nothing of her from me. Irias did the same. We can't tell him, but _you_ can." Hoggle glared at her, unmoved and unconvinced. "I know you don't like him Hoggle, but I think he can save her."

Any reticence left in the dwarf disappeared. "I'll do it. If 'e can save Sarah, it'll be worth it." He toddled out the door on his short legs up the same path Irias had taken so recently and soon disappeared, too distant to be seen through the dense foliage. Riganne sighed in vague relief, certain she had done everything she possibly could have done. Now it was up to Hoggle.

Riganne prayed her faith was not misplaced.

*

Katrinne collapsed into her boudoir chair, weary from this fresh burst of spellcasting. It had been two hours since Sarah had bitten into the peach that even now was draining her life, and Katrinne did not want to miss a second of the show. However, the drama unfolding in the genii's mirror did still reflect her face enough for her to know the damage wrought upon her features by the spell, and she had undertaken to repair it and restore her natural beauty. Her again-blonde hair streamed unfettered over the back of her chair, and she was again free of wrinkles or age. Beauty spells were nowhere near as tiring and intensive as death curses, but the strain on her magic in recent days was still difficult to work around.

Katrinne found herself quite amused at the happenings on the other side of the mirror. Those insignificant, magically-stunted freaks thought they could actually do something to save Sarah. Hah! Unless they dredged up a soulmate for her in the next eleven hours and hastened him to the brat's side, all their efforts were for naught. Katrinne thought it both ridiculous and hilarious that they sent messengers to the Goblin King, of all people. While it was true that the Goblin King had wanted to marry the girl, Katrinne was quite sure he only sought a naïve beauty to warm his bed. The only other explanation was preposterous: the Goblin King, in love with a stubborn, bratty _mortal_? It was too much, and Katrinne laughed at the thought.

Events in the mirror crawled to a halt, and Katrinne folded her arms petulantly at the monsters that did nothing more than mill about and wait for Sarah to die. While their limited efforts would prove fruitless, it was fun to watch them try, and fail, to do anything for the girl. Katrinne rose from her vanity and strolled out of her chambers. There had to be some kind of diversion to be found elsewhere in the castle while she waited for the girl to die. Katrinne decided to see to her son. She had been greatly inconvenienced by the deaths of all the servants, and she imagined that her son had been as well.

Katrinne found Tobias pale and shivering in the corner of his playroom. Puzzled by this development, she walked around a largish pile of stuffed animals and discovered the body of his most recent nursemaid. That explained his apparent distress.

"Come here, child," she commanded with a snap of her fingers. He shook his head violently from side to side in a most unbecomingly stubborn way. For a moment, he reminded her of Sarah, and that would not be tolerated. "NOW."

The boy fairly scampered forward at the harsh tone of her voice, but he tripped by his nursemaid's body and skidded forward to her. He whimpered at the small hurt, and tears welled up in his blue eyes. Katrinne sneered at Tobias and noted that weakness as another defect she would have to train out of him before he ascended to the throne. Assuming, she thought with a ruthless edge, that she let him take control of Istrien. The thought of extending her life with further magic and ruling indefinitely appealed to her. The quavering child before her looked more pathetic by the moment, and it was tempting indeed to eliminate him before he ever became a problem.

Katrinne pushed the temptation away. For the moment, it suited her purpose to keep the child alive. If she killed the other heir to the kingdom, Istrien might well collapse into itself, and then where would she be? She snapped her fingers at him again and left the playroom, indicating he should follow her. She led the way back to her chambers and put him on a cushion in the corner, so that he might be looked on occasionally without becoming a nuisance to Katrinne.

A sudden whimsy entered Katrinne's mind, and she wondered for a moment, before redirecting her attention to the genii in the mirror. "Genii, tell me truthfully the answer to my question. When Sarah dies, who then is fairest in the land?"

The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees, and an uncomfortable prickling rose on the back of Katrinne's neck. In the mirror, the genii turned and pointed to a place behind Katrinne's back. "HER."

Katrinne reeled around in her chair and gasped.

"_Hello, Katrinne."_

_*_

Irias arrived back at the castle to find the assembled Court gathered around the closed door to the King's library. "What's wrong with him?" he asked of one overly gaudy courtier.

"His Majesty is unwell. He suffered some kind of malady earlier, and he has since confined himself to his library and will see no one."

Irias swore quietly. This was worse than he thought. "He will see me," he said loudly, and moved himself into the library. Jareth sat bowed over, arms braced against his knees with his head in his hands. He looked up at Irias, and the darker fey was shocked to see tear tracks down the King's face.

"She is dying," Jareth said heavily, "and there is nothing I can do about it."

"Your Majesty…" Irias began, and then realized he had no idea what to do next. He prepared the words in his mind to tell Jareth how to find Sarah, but his throat closed and he could do no more than exhale. Sarah's binding still held, even as she lay dying. Irias groaned in despair. There was no point in telling the King he could break the spell if he would never be able to find Sarah. It would be too much.

"Your Majesty, I am so sorry," he said finally.

Jareth heaved himself backwards into his chair and ran a hand over his face. His expression was one of absolute defeat, something Irias had never seen before. "Did you know," Jareth whispered, "that she loves me? I didn't. Not for certain. She told me, Irias, right before she stole the last of herself from my mind." He chuckled weakly. "It wasn't enough. I can still feel her here," Jareth said, holding a fist over his heart. "It is the most painful thing in the world to feel your beloved die and be unable to help her."

They sat together in silence for some time, until a squabbling sound came from the other side of the door. The sound increased to that of an actual struggle, and a low gruff voice yelled, "Get off 'a me! I gots to see him!"

Jareth looked up in anger as the door flung open and Hoggle stumbled in. "What do you want, Hedgewart?"

"I know where Sarah is." In a sad repeat of months earlier when Irias had learned of her whereabouts, Jareth bolted forward.

"Where." It wasn't a question, but rather a statement of fact that Hoggle would tell him.

"In my house. Same village as all the other non-goblins." Jareth nodded and a look of intense concentration came over his face.

Irias recognized that look, and yelled, "Don't!" half a second too late. The Goblin King had vanished. Irias tested the magic around the Labyrinth and felt the same instability as earlier. He knew that Jareth was far more magically gifted than he, but he highly doubted he could overpower the wild magic of his own Labyrinth. Irias prayed for the Goblin King's safety, and hoped that he arrived where he meant to arrive, both for his and Sarah's sakes.

*

Katrinne gaped at the figure before her. A tall pale woman with white hair and Sarah's damnable green eyes looked coldly down at her. "Who are you?" she whispered.

"_I am the soul of the Labyrinth,"_ the woman echoed. _"And I have come to put an end to your petty games."_

Katrinne's eyes darted to her son. "I don't know what it is you speak of. You must be mistaken."

"_Do not play the fool with me! Do you think I do not know of the dark magics you have so carelessly thrown about? Do you think I have not noticed your every pathetic attempt to grasp at power that is not your own? Do you really think your murder spells have escaped my attention?"_ Katrinne said nothing. _"Then you are a fool indeed."_ And the Labyrinth laughed, a low harsh sound, dissonant from its usual calm tones.

Katrinne ground her teeth and gathered her dignity. "What of it then? I have been well within my rights as a ruling monarch, and what I do has no effect on yourself or Ennevar. Why would you care what I do?"

The Labyrinth laughed again. _"Oh, I beg to differ on all accounts. You are Queen-Regent, holding the throne for the girl you have tried so hard to kill. And you are not even a born monarch of Istrien. You have come very far for the by-blow of a foreign Count, but regicide is not within your rights, your ambitions be damned._

"_And,"_ the Labyrinth said with ice in its voice, _"to correct your earlier assumption, your careless spell tossing does have an effect on Ennevar and a most unpleasant effect on me. Sarah is my child, born of my magic. Oh yes, Linnaea was the vessel and royal blood flows in the girl's veins, but she is _mine_. And Ennevar suffers for every attempt you make on her life, as she is the soulbonded heart's mate of the Goblin King Jareth, and I assure you, he feels each and every one."_

Katrinne began to understand that she had made a significant error in judgment. Her false assumptions had all finally caught up with her, and this was a very bad situation. She had to plan her next steps very carefully, or she would not live long enough to plan anything ever again. She narrowed her eyes for a moment and found a temporary solution.

"I was not aware of any of this," she said carefully. It was the truth; she hadn't been aware of the girl's magic or her apparently inhuman nature. Though it would explain her impossible ability to survive all Katrinne's former attempts to kill her… Katrinne shook her head sharply and forced her next words out from behind clenched teeth. "I apologize for my transgressions."

"_Again, you lie. I tire of your diversions."_ The Labyrinth raised a hand toward Katrinne, and wild magic crackled over the being's long fingers.

"Wait!" Katrinne cried. Again, her gaze shifted to her son. "You would not kill a mother before her child's very eyes would you?"

"_I could ask the same of you. Sarah has been more mother to your son than you could fathom ever becoming. But very well."_ The Labyrinth snapped its fingers, and the boy disappeared with a cloud of colorful magic. _"Now let us begin."_

_*_

Jareth cursed his own reckless foolhardiness. This was not the first time it had gotten him into trouble, but he had never before had his life endangered by it. He had heard the beginning of Irias's warning, but it had been too late, and he had managed to somehow transport himself into the middle of his Labyrinth with no way out. Jareth had tried to move himself out of the Labyrinth in the same way as he had entered it, but that had accomplished nothing. All attempts to move magically within the Labyrinth similarly failed.

Once again, Jareth tried to make contact with the Labyrinth's mind, but it was entirely absent. Something had gone horrifyingly wrong, as the Labyrinth as he knew it had somehow ceased to exist. Wild magic screamed through the passages he used to travel in safety, and he felt the keen lack of a directing personality behind the mad shifts in the maze. His only saving grace was an innate sense of direction to guide him.

A sharp pang twisted in his chest, and Jareth rubbed at it absently as he approached a fork in the maze. The emptiness was getting worse as the hours passed, and he refused to think about what that meant. He would reach Sarah in time and he would find a way to save her because to not do so was not an option. So far, he'd had an easy run of the maze, but he didn't expect it to last. He'd often felt the tremors that meant one of the more dangerous beasts that were normally confined in specific parts of the Labyrinth was running loose; it was another thing he refused to think about.

The path before him branched off in two opposite directions, one going right in the seeming direction of his castle and logically, the village, but he took the left path. Jareth had learned often and early that not all was as it seemed in the Labyrinth, and logic more often than not got one stranded in an oubliette. A wall appeared before him, and he was forced to detour again. It wasn't often he ran into dead ends, but each time he did he lost more time in his search for Sarah.

A small part of Jareth wanted to laugh at the irony of being forced to run, and solve, his own Labyrinth to find the only person who had ever done so as he hastened down a winding passage. The greater part of him that knew exactly how urgent this journey was screamed to not grow complacent, for Sarah had only made it through so easily because of the Labyrinth's attachment to her. This mindless mess played no favorites, and he would have to make it through on strength of will and sheer luck.

Hedges finally gave way to stone walls, but Jareth refused to take any cheer from his apparent progress. His Labyrinth in its simplest form was well-riddled with traps, and he expected no less of this monstrosity. Without warning, the ground beneath Jareth's feet opened up, and he plummeted into darkness. He called on his personal magic to slow his fall, but it was slow to answer and offered little help. Jareth finally landed, but once he realized where he was, he wondered if that wasn't a good thing.

He looked for any exits and once again cursed his lack of foresight in not making any escape from this place. At the time, it had been well thought out, because any exit he could use could also be forced open by anything he might choose to imprison here, but now he was in immediate danger of losing his life. Escaped creatures could be recaptured, but not an escaped life. He thought of Sarah, balanced upon the edge of death, and squared his shoulders. This would not be easy, but he had to find a way around this, because he had no other choice.

Jareth slowly edged his way around the darkened cell as carefully as he could, hoping not to disturb the creature. The slow rise and fall of its scaled sides told him it was sleeping, but that could change at any moment. His foot disturbed a stray pebble and he winced as it bounced, echoing through the space. Huge crimson eyes opened, and a heavy rumbling emanated from the creature's huge chest. Smoke curled from its nostrils, and Jareth backed as far from it as he could get. He pulled on his reserves of magic, but they stuttered and stilled within him. Trying to keep both Sarah and himself alive had taxed his magic dearly, and he had nothing to fall back on.

Jareth had awakened a sleeping dragon, and he had no way to save himself. Before the dragon killed him, he sent an apology into the air. _I'm so sorry Sarah._

_*_

"_Now let us begin."_

The Labyrinth raised its arms and the stones in the walls shook. Katrinne laughed. "Is that all you can do? Make this tower shake? I feared you for nothing, then!"

A dark smile curved across the Labyrinth's face. _"You prove your ignorance yet again, Katrinne. In my body, I give home and succor to creatures that give power to stones. I draw that power out of the stones." _With a wave of the Labyrinth's hand, a terrible light tore the ceiling away and made the heavy glass windows burst from their hinges and shatter. Above them, the turbulent weather roiled and flashed with barely held-back lighting.

Finally, lighting struck the tower, but the Labyrinth caught the bolt in its hand, and brandished it like a coiling, glittering sword. Katrinne blanched and tried to run to the door, but she tripped over her elaborate constricting robes. She looked up from her place on the floor at the Labyrinth as it approached like a vengeful god made flesh, and trembled. The Labyrinth raised its blade of lightning, and Katrinne threw up her hands in vain.

"Mercy!" she cried. "Mercy!"

"_Mercy?"_ A look of revulsion crossed the Labyrinth's face. _"You beg for mercy, you who have never granted mercy to another in your life?"_ Katrinne nodded, too afraid to speak. The Labyrinth dismissed its storm blade and bent down to Katrinne's level. _"I think not._

"_Instead, I will show you your greatest failure, and I will send you to a hell of your own making." _The Labyrinth pointed to the genii's mirror, and the wispy form of the genii fell from the warped glass. He bowed to the Labyrinth and winked out of existence, but Katrinne did not see it.

Her vision grew hazy, and frosted over, as if she were behind a heavy piece of clear glass. She stepped forward, confused by this change, and was halted by a warped clear shield, one that reminded her greatly of her mirror. The Labyrinth appeared huge before her, behind the glass, and she knew what had happened. The Labyrinth had bound her into her own mirror, into the same geas she had used to capture the genii. The horror did not end there.

"_I have moved time forward inside your mirror, that you may see the end of this game. Now, shall we test this spell?"_ Katrinne whimpered as her magic bound her hands to the distorted glass. _"Mirror, mirror, cast from sand, show me the fairest in the land."_

A vision presented itself before Katrinne's eyes, one of Sarah as she was crowned the Queen of Istrien. And beside her… Katrinne screamed in agony as she resisted the pull of the spell, but that was nothing compared to what came next.

The Labyrinth smiled grimly and pulled a fist back. _"Now DIE!"_ And Katrinne's world ended in shards of plated glass and broken dreams.

*

Above the capital city of Istrien, the Queen's tower exploded in a brilliant storm of fire and light. The dark clouds that had hung above Istrien for so long swirled into a thick funnel that sucked the pestilence and plague from the land before twirling out of existence. In the city below, a dark haired former serving-maid clutched her child to her chest and looked out the window to the sun smiling gently down.

Elsewhere, joyful tears ran down the face of a Horandi guardsman as he joined a growing throng in the streets. The Horandi were a people of stories and myth, but they knew Katrinne's evil had been cleansed from Istrien forever. By rights of the magic of kings, the welfare of the land had passed to the true heir, and by all signs, she meant to do well with it.

A chant passed through each quarter of the city, until the voices of Istrien rang out as one: "Katrinne is dead! Long live the true Queen!"

They did not know that the true Queen of Istrien lay dying in nearby Ennevar. They had no idea that as time flew past, their chosen Queen was moments away from forever being known as a Never-Queen.

*

Jareth closed his eyes and faced the dragon. If he was to die, then he refused to die as a coward. He felt the hot searing breath a moment before it hit him, felt it singe the edges of his clothes, but nothing more.

He cracked his eyes open to see a shield of magic holding back the dragon's fire, and the pale form of the Labyrinth's soul hovering above. The Labyrinth descended and took his hand, and he felt the warm rush of lost magic returned to him. With a curt nod, he shifted his form to that of an owl and winged up and into the heart of the Labyrinth. What seemed like hours as he raced against time was truly minutes, but he barely felt the breath of Sarah's soul in his own. She was out of time, and he prayed he did not arrive too late.

The forest broke before him, and Jareth flew over the tiny village to the cottage the dwarf had mentioned. Thankfully, the upstairs window was open, and he flew over the body of a too-still Sarah. He shifted back into his true form and knelt at Sarah's side.

Jareth had not believed she could become more beautiful, but at that moment she was perfect to him. Her eyes were bruised from lack of sleep, her skin grayed from the curse and a haggard expression on her face, but she was still unmistakably the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. It pained him to see her in such a state, though.

Carefully, Jareth pulled his gloves off and took her hand between his own. The ring he had placed on her finger so many months ago still lingered, full of sparkling promise, but her fingers were dry and chill as ice. He held her hand to his cheek and pressed his lips against her wrist, but she did not move, nor did she wake.

"Oh my beautiful beloved, what have I done to you?" he whispered brokenly. He felt the last of her fade from his heart, and not even a phantom touch of her lingered in his mind. Realization broke over him like a great wave, and for the second time that day, tears dwelled in his eyes.

Jareth pressed his lips together and swallowed, then arranged her hands over her stomach. He smoothed her hair away from her face and let his fingers briefly float across her lips. Just as quickly, he pulled his hands away and clenched his fists tightly enough to draw blood. He would not break; he refused to be destroyed by this in so public a place. When he surrendered to grief he would make sure to do so in the privacy of his own chambers, where he would be guaranteed solitude.

Jareth turned to leave, but the sight of Sarah's still-crimson lips stopped him. Once he left to mourn he would never see her again, but he would have one last kiss before he went. He knelt and poured all his longing and love and hope and promise of what might have been into the kiss. His lips finally left hers with a sigh, and it was to his great surprise when Sarah's mouth rose to greet his in hot welcome.

Jareth's eyes flew open as Sarah pulled her hands up from rest to tangle in his wild hair, and he found his arms pulling her close to him, never wanting to let go again. He surrendered all the pain and the anguish that had consumed him and let himself fall into her. The bond which had both come to life and been denied earlier today rose from its own ashes and wrapped the two of them more firmly together than ever before, and Jareth welcomed it.

When finally they parted to breathe, Jareth rested his forehead against Sarah's and gazed into her eyes. "You…"

"Yes?"

"I have never been so frightened in all my life than when I thought of spending a small eternity without you by my side." He pulled slightly away from her, but kept his arms firmly encircled around her body.

"I thought I had lost you forever, just when I knew I couldn't survive without you," Sarah replied. "I was wrong before," she added as she blinked away a few spare tears. "You do have power over me. _Let me be ruled by you_. Just love me, and I will be your slave."

Jareth let go of a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "_Through dangers untold, and hardships unnumbered_," he whispered, "I have fought my way through the Labyrinth for you, and only you. You have such power over me that I would find a way to move the stars if you asked it of me."

The tears finally fell from Sarah's eyes, and Jareth kissed them away. They were salty and bitter, yet sweet at the same time because they were _hers_. Sarah let her hands fall out of his hair, but one trailed forward, and Sarah outlined his lips with her fingers.

"I love you," she said slowly, in wonder at the words coming out of her mouth. Jareth pulled her hand down and pressed his mouth hard against hers with all the answer and acceptance she could ever need. She smiled against his lips and whispered "I love you" into his kiss again and again, and Jareth found a well of laughter bubble out of him. Sarah too began to laugh, and Jareth spun her out of bed and fully into his arms.

When the villagers found them, they found the Goblin King with his arms around Sarah's waist, both of them laughing and crying and kissing each other, dancing in dizzying circles to music only they could hear, as if all the love in the world depended on them spinning off into eternity. And so life, like their love, spun on.

*


	7. Epilogue

**Fairest  
**A Fanfiction by Heist

**Epilogue**

A fairytale ending did not mean the end of the fairytale. It was more of a beginning than anything else. Sarah still had a kingdom to claim, and Jareth had his own kingdom to restore. The Labyrinth had done untold amounts of damage by severing itself from the land, and it would be months before anything resembling the Labyrinth's usual disorder was restored.

Sarah was crowned the Queen and sole ruler of Istrien a short month after she woke from the Goblin King's kiss, out of a semblance of respect for the dead Katrinne. She had been universally hated by the people of Istrien, but Sarah wanted to give her young brother time to get used to his mother's death. Tobias had been quiet and withdrawn, so different from the laughing child she remembered, and it hurt to see him so solemn. It was days before he said anything less perfunctory than the polite manners drilled into him by tutors. She was greatly relieved when one of Jareth's goblins got a smile out of him, and when he finally laughed at a valiant Sir Didymus defending his wife from a rosebush grown out of control, she was convinced he would be fine.

Sarah was greatly surprised by the number of people that attended her coronation. The Horandi that had followed her mother to the kingdom came out in full force, as did a large number of commoners that had formerly believed the rumors of her mental infirmity. Even more unexpected was the arrival of the entire royal Court of Ennevar, eager to again see the woman destined to marry their king. It was an emotionally charged ceremony, as many were torn between watching Sarah vow to defend and protect them and goggling at the Goblin King she intended to wed. The most surprising part of all was how little dissent marred the occasion; Sarah had expected her people to reject her or her choice of husband, especially after the royal disaster that had been Katrinne, but if any objected, they kept their complaints silent.

In the intervening weeks after the coronation, Jareth and Sarah stayed away from each other by mutual, silent agreement. It confounded nearly everyone who had seen them together; for days after the spell had broken, they had clung to each other as if to separate would mean being unable to draw breath (Sarah was later amused by that metaphor, but she never explained it). Only the two of them knew that what they had was too raw and fragile and new, and love was not enough to completely undo all the hurts they had done each other. For the moment, love from a distance was the best solution until they learned to coexist, if not peacefully, then at least without the battle of wills that had plagued all their previous encounters.

That, as it turned out, became a futile effort.

*

"I said NO!"

"And I said YES!"

"Sarah, be reasonable."

An irate Sarah threw her door open to glare at a befuddled Irias. "I am being quite reasonable. Tell your KING HE IS BEING IMPOSSIBLE AND I'M THINKING ABOUT CALLING THE WHOLE DAMNED THING OFF!" she yelled, and slammed the door shut again. Irias shrugged plaintively at his wife, who was trying to negotiate with an equally sequestered and irate Goblin King across the hall.

Jareth flung his own door open and "FINE!" he yelled back. "Riganne, tell Her Majesty THAT MAYBE I DON'T WANT TO MARRY HER ANYWAY!"

Sarah's door again flew open and crashed into the wall. "What in all hells are you talking about? This was your idea!"

"You agreed to it!"

"I am not surrendering my kingdom, Jareth!"

"I never asked you to do any such thing, Sarah."

"No, you decided to annex my kingdom without telling me."

"I was not responsible for the Labyrinth growing around your borders! How many times do I have to apologize for that?"

"It's your Labyrinth!"

"You try telling it that, Sarah!"

Riganne pinched the bridge of her nose and pulled on her husband's arm. They had been privy to dozens of these spats since Sarah had returned to Ennevar for the marriage negotiations. It wasn't terribly common for independent monarchs to wed, and they were all beginning to understand why. Land negotiations were difficult enough, but adding love into the equation made it infinitely more complex. Sarah and Jareth had been perfectly happy to leave each other's kingdoms alone, but then the Labyrinth had interfered, and taken the choice entirely away from them. Sarah was not pleased.

"BASTARD!"

"HARPY!"

Negotiations between the two royals had become… strained, and none of their ministers wanted to be present when they began arguing at the table. Hence, a permanent recess had been called, so the two of them could work out their differences alone. That had not gone well, to say the least, and so Sarah and Jareth had been summarily confined to their rooms. All might have been well after that, except for the fact that Sarah was residing in the Queen's chambers, which was directly across the hall from Jareth. The panicked ministers had called Irias and Riganne back from their honeymoon to sort out the carnage.

Every argument began with the two of them passing messages to each other through Irias and Riganne, because they childishly refused to talk to each other face to face. It always rapidly devolved into an out and out screaming match, chased by a short time when they actually conversed in mere raised voices. That degraded into name calling, at which point Riganne usually pulled Irias away to wait from a safe distance.

They found the Prince Tobias coming up the stairway and stopped him before he got embroiled in the situation. Sarah still didn't trust Jareth with her brother, and the boy was another issue of contention between the two. Early on in negotiations, Jareth had suggested letting Sarah turn Istrien over to her brother, a notion she had heartily denied. It had never been a viable alternative, a mere suggestion in fact, but it was one of the many things that still came up in arguments between them.

"Fighting again?" the child asked.

"MANIPULATIVE SNAKE!"

"TORMENTING VIXEN!"

"They're almost finished," Irias assured the boy.

"They don't usually take this long," Riganne said a few moments later, when the torrent of insults hadn't slowed.

"They're getting creative," Irias added.

"Why do they do this, again?" Tobias asked. Irias hushed him.

"Wait. We're almost to the good part." Riganne nodded.

"The gods only know why I love you woman!" Jareth yelled finally.

"I can't fathom why I love you!" Sarah shot back, right before she launched herself across the hall into his arms. Their lips met in a crushing kiss, and Tobias made a sound of juvenile disgust as Jareth pulled Sarah into the room and closed the door.

"It's all grown-up kissy stuff after they argue," he whined. "It's yucky."

Irias reached over and ruffled the child's hair. "That's not true, Toby," he said as he met Riganne's eyes. "That's part of the fun of being a grown-up." He let his lips brush Riganne's over the boy's head, and the child retreated.

"Not you too! You're supposed to be the smart grown-ups." He crossed his arms and pouted.

Riganne laughed. "It's one of the things you get used to when you get older."

"Nuh uh, not ever," Tobias said decisively, and he ran down the stairs to find other sources of amusement.

Irias pulled Riganne to his side and she let her head rest against his shoulder. "Children," she said.

"Yes," he answered. A thought occurred to him, and he looked down at his wife. There was no visible change in her aura, but one could never be too certain. "Why? Do you want to have some?"

"Maybe. Someday." A thud emanated from the door of Jareth's room, followed by a low laughter. "But not before they do."

Irias grinned, and could not stop his own laughter. Jareth and Sarah argued over everything, yes, but they made it up to each other in the best ways possible. They were going to be just fine.

*

Jareth and Sarah married at Midwinter. Their "arguments" wore on all autumn, and they finally reached a truce after the first snows came to the Labyrinth. Jareth promised to rule only his own subjects, and to leave Sarah's under her jurisdiction. Living arrangements were complicated by the vastness of the lands now surrounded by the Labyrinth, but another compromise was made in that regard. Doors were made in each castle that magically led to the other, so as to make running the two kingdoms run more smoothly. If Sarah ran into a problem that required the help of her husband, he was steps away, and if Jareth had to suffer a challenger to the Labyrinth, Sarah was an easily reached distraction.

Initially, the ceremony was to be a small, simple affirmation of vows, but having two royal Courts to corral turned it into the most elaborate affair witnessed in centuries. It was publicly agreed that Jareth and Sarah made the most striking couple to rule the goblin lands in generations, and much more quietly, but more universally agreed, to be the most entertaining pair to ever control the Labyrinth. Their arguments were explosive, but anyone could see that they enjoyed the opportunity to yell at each other, because making up was even more spectacular.

No one was surprised when children came early in their marriage.

*

The draperies were closed against the morning sun, but a thin line of sun crept steadily across the floor, over the bedding, and directly into Sarah's eyes.

_"Sarah."_

She cracked an eye open and shut it immediately, then curled into the warm body beside her. A bare arm tightened slightly over the slight curve of her stomach, and she moaned in contentment. _Labyrinth_, she thought, _do shut up._

Jareth's breath tickled over her ear, and a smile crossed her face. "Sarah," he said, in a voice that still sent a shiver down her spine, "it's morning."

"Ten more minutes," she mumbled. Jareth was still stubbornly, impossibly a morning person, something Sarah could not claim to have been for years. She rolled over and burrowed her head into his chest to hide from the burgeoning sunlight. She felt the rumbling laughter in Jareth's chest and swatted lightly at his shoulder. "It's not morning until I say it is."

Jareth lifted her head with a finger beneath her chin and rested his forehead against hers. "Wake up, Sleeping Beauty."

"Mmmm… make me," Sarah said with a yawn. A gentle, openmouthed kiss greeted her, and Sarah fairly melted inside. Years of marriage had not dulled the passion between them, and Sarah responded with equal fervor.

_"Sarah…"_ That put a slight dampener on things.

_Could you be quiet? I'm having a moment_, she thought irately, and wondered vaguely if the Labyrinth did this to Jareth every day too.

_"Very well,"_ the Labyrinth said with a sigh. _"But don't say I didn't give you fair warning."_

The door flew open with a heavy crack, and two fast-moving bodies launched themselves into the bed. Sarah's eyes snapped open, and she broke away from Jareth with a sigh. He grinned apologetically before wrestling the bodies of their children into the blankets. "What are you two about so early?" he growled as the children giggled. Sarah turned her eyes skyward and flopped into the pillows.

It was the same every morning. Esrane and Alida possessed the same boundless energy as their father, especially in the morning. Sarah smiled up at the ceiling and bit her lip as she ran a hand over her growing belly and listened to her children's laughter. Esrane, the heir and his father's joy had come first, nearly seven years earlier, and Alida had followed three years later. They had all of Jareth's impish charm combined with her eyes and dark hair, beautiful little angels, both of them. Jareth insisted this next one was going to have his eyes, but Sarah just shrugged and let him believe it.

"We came to wake up Mama," Esrane said proudly, in between laughing gasps.

"Wakie Mama!" Alida squealed.

"Well," Jareth said in a faux serious tone, "there is only one way I can think of." A brief silence filled the air, and Sarah raised her head to see three mischievous sets of eyes looking back at her. _Really_, she thought, it was a crime to see that evil expression in eyes that were miniatures of her own. "Tickle fight!"

Sarah shrieked as Jareth pulled her arms up above her head and the children attacked her sides with wicked fingers. She laughed until tears sprang to her eyes, and she hugged Esrane and Alida to her chest. She looked up at Jareth and smiled at his happy look of contented awe, and thought that there could never be a more perfect moment in all the world.

"_Come here_, you," she commanded her husband, and she pulled his mouth down to hers. Her children grimaced and gagged at the display, and she laughed into Jareth's mouth, as he looked at her with a playful look that promised some kind of retaliation when their children left the room. Sarah couldn't wait.

And so with laughter and love, they all lived happily ever after.

End

*

**Author's Notes**: I owe everyone an apology.

On January 1st, 2007, I pulled all my fic from the 'net at large in a mad manic fury, declared myself finished with it and any other creative endeavor because I was a failure, a wretched desperate grasping failure and nothing I did was ever going to amount to anything. It was a bad day, in an ugly month of bad days following a succession of ugly months. When I am in the teeth of the monster, I destroy the things I love, and after that day I eviscerated _Fairest_ so thoroughly that I have been picking up the pieces ever since. I got over it, and deleted my other copies of _Fairest_ in sheer embarassment: I didn't particularly want the reminder of my little tantrum just lying around.

I know I said it was never coming back. At the time, I really did mean it. I meant it as recently as a month ago, but circumstances change. I found a copy of _Fairest_ still in one piece on my hard drive on September 7th, 2009, and after chewing on my pride and bruised ego for two days I reposted it on September 9th, 2009. To everyone I either ignored or was less than charitable to in the last two and a half years, I am sorry. I was snappish on the topic, and I shouldn't have been nearly so ridiculous about the whole thing.

It's worth noting for future reference that I am working, in off times, on gutting out and revising the bones of _Fairest_ into something new and different and original. A book, to be precise. At this point in time, the skeleton of the idea bears nothing but the most superficial of resemblances to this story, but that might change. I don't believe I will pull _Fairest_ again, but I would rather not be called out for plagiarizing myself in the future.

To anyone who missed _Fairest_ in its absence, thank you for your patience. To any who are new, thank you for reading. I appreciate you all.


End file.
